


Forever Yours

by MarshmallowRabbit



Category: Casanova (UK)
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Casanova isn't always a good guy, Drama & Romance, Edith clearly has a thing for older men, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Humor, Kinda sorta a Fix-It if you squint, Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Male-Female Friendship, Redemption, Romance, Tragic Romance, Unrequited Love, but he can be when he wants to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 59,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowRabbit/pseuds/MarshmallowRabbit
Summary: In a bid to clear his name, find his fortune, and return to Venice – Giacomo Casanova heads to Spain. In this AU, Edith is regaled with tales of a false engagement, an unexpected meeting with a lost love, a contract of chastity, and an elephant.In the present, Edith suddenly finds herself plunging into the illicit past of Giacomo Casanova on her own when the appearance of a mysterious man seems to have a connection to Giacomo’s disappearance from the castle.It’s stated from the beginning that the tale of Giacomo Casanova is a tragic one, but will Edith have a hand in changing fate?...“There we are." Giacomo Casanova reached out to tap Edith's chin upward. "Now you're the very picture of someone who’s too good for this dump. Keep that mindset, my dear – faking it until you make it will take you much farther than you’d imagine; look at me, for example.”Edith smirked as she watched him back away. “All I see is an old fool.”“A rich old fool.”Edith laughed, “All the money in the world won’t make you not a fool.”Giacomo opened his arms wide. “But at that point, does it matter?”
Relationships: Giacomo Casanova/Henriette, Giacomo Casanova/Original Female Character(s), Grimani/Henriette
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. of Casanova is the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

“And that was Paris.”

Edith was watching him, horrified. Giacomo smirked at the expression. He rose from his seat behind the large, mahogany desk to refresh his glass of wine. His companion could do little more than stare at the silhouette of an elephant on the bottle before finding her voice.

“That was …”

Edith’s pretty face scrunched up as if she’d smelled something repugnant.

_“Chopping his torso into pieces?”_

“Not as fun to watch as one would imagine, no,” the old man said.

Edith's fingers fidgeted with the material of her dress as she shifted. “I do hope that the next place you went was a little more pleasant.”

Giacomo had wandered toward the heat radiating from the rather impressive fireplace. His quarters may not have been much, but at the very least he had been granted one of the warmer rooms in the estate. A few of the other servants were bitter over the fact, seeing as how Edith had caught them attempting to tamper with his food on more than one occasion. She shuddered to think of what Sir Casanova may have obliviously been consuming prior to her intervention over the fact.

“Spain, it was,” Giacomo said, his wine swirling about the small glass.

“Oh?” Edith said, turning in her seat to get a better vantage point.

“I’ve been engaged to be married five times, you know,” Giacomo said. He looked over his shoulder with a coy smile. “Six, if you’ll consider it.”

“Pig,” Edith said, her tone curt. This elicited a laugh from the old man.

“Five is a good number, anyway,” Giacomo consented.

“Wait,” Edith said. Dark brows knit together in thought. “If you count your engagement to that woman … what was it …?”

“Teresa.”

“Ah, yes. And then Bellino, then the short one to Henriette …”

Edith paused, but Giacomo had turned away. She cleared her throat before continuing.

“Then you’re saying you were engaged twice after that?”

“Only once,” Giacomo said. He took a sip of wine. “To the same woman I had been betrothed to in my childhood.”

“Huh?!” Edith said, her slouch retreating. “You didn’t mention that before!”

“It wasn’t relevant until this point,” Giacomo said. He was doing a good job hiding it, but he found Edith’s enraptured attention terribly amusing.

“So you were betrothed to someone as a child,” Edith said, working to put the pieces together, “then the same woman again later? Whatever for? Why did you not go through with the arrangement in the first place? And if it fell through the first time, why do it again?”

“I have a good feeling you may gain some insight, my dear, if you allow me to speak.”

Edith rolled her eyes, but grew silent.

“One has always been told not to speak ill of the dead,” Giacomo said. “But then my stories would be terribly dull otherwise, wouldn’t they?”

Despite appearances, Giacomo’s slow amble toward the desk was due more to being lost in thought than his age.

“I’m afraid I can’t say my mother put in far more than the minimal amount of effort when it came to my upbringing. She pawned me off to a boarding school as soon as she was able, and I hardly saw much of her up until her death. But if there was _one _thing my mother did in an attempt to secure my future, it was to have me betrothed to the daughter of the man who designed her stage shoes.”

“A cobbler?” Edith asked.

“A respectable craftsman, and a kind soul, from what little I recall,” Giacomo said. “It was when I was nine years of age that I first met Verona Bambalina Jilani, my betrothed.”

Edith’s lips pursed, but Giacomo plowed on.

“I didn’t speak much, those days, and the two of us simply sat in silence for what felt like hours while our parents convened in the neighboring room. She had lovely shoes – which was to be expected. They were a rose-colored leather with a pattern of daisies around the edge. I remember them so vividly because it was those very shoes I stared at for some time – I didn’t even take my eyes off them as I got another one of the nosebleeds I was prone to back in those days.”

Giacomo chuckled. “Lina didn’t say a thing about it. She may not have even been looking at me, since I never raised my eyes to check. All I knew after my mother whisked me away was that I was betrothed, and that was that.”

“Hold on,” Edith said. Her eyes narrowed, and the sparkle behind Giacomo’s blue eyes indicated he had an inclination of her thoughts. “You said Jilani. Do you mean _the _Jilani? The family that owns the Jilani fleet?”

“One and the same.”

Edith bound to her feet. Her companion began to chuckle at the gob-smacked expression taking over her face.

“You … you could’ve been one of the wealthiest men in Europe! One of the wealthiest men _in the world! _Why in heavens name did you not marry her?!”

Giacomo motioned for Edith to sit. The woman did so with the air of someone in a trance.

“Their family wasn’t _the _Jilani’s, at the time,” Giacomo said. “In fact, they wouldn’t be on the rise for ten years or so. During that time, I began my studies, including my thorough research into members of the opposite sex.”

Giacomo winked. “And when I was seventeen, I decided I didn’t like the idea of being promised to the life of a cobbler’s apprentice, nor to the hand of a woman who I had never said a word to.”

“You weren’t even curious?”

“Oh, heavens no,” Giacomo said. “And after meeting Lina – ah, _Verona – _later in life, I’m sure another meeting between the two of us wouldn't have swayed my opinion. I was just getting into my prime, and there was nothing that would pull me from my free-spirited lifestyle.

“And so, I sent a formal letter to her father calling off the engagement. This is when I learned that her family had relocated to Spain. This is also when I learned Verona’s father had passed away, but her brother confirmed the cancellation of the betrothal without a fuss. I moved on, and didn’t think about Verona again until many years later, after Paris.”

“Why then?”

“The same reason I was moving from court to court,” Giacomo said, leaning back in his seat. “I was seeking the Venetian ambassador who would grant my pardon so I could return to Venice. I heard that the ambassador in the Spanish court wouldn’t even glance your way without being chummy with the right people, and I needed an in.”

Edith frowned. “So even though you loved Henriette, you became engaged to Verona just to get close to the ambassador?”

“Not exactly,” Giacomo said. “There was a bit more to it than that – including the fact that I almost became engaged to Verona a third time.”

“What?!”

“Have some wine,” Giacomo said, getting up to fetch Edith a glass.

* * *

Giacomo Casanova sat proudly upon his white horse, looking every bit like the gallant hero right from the pages of a children’s storybook. He grinned, taking in the simple, yet meticulous gardens surrounding the Jilani estate. The air was filled with the sound of birdsong and granite crunching under hoof. A gardener in a wide-brimmed hat peered up at the approaching horses for a moment before returning to his work tending the winding hedges.

_“This _is the family you could’ve married into?” Rocco asked, eyes wide. His matching horse trailed behind Giacomo’s – Giacomo’s young son, Giac, absently clutching the man’s tunic from where he sat toward the rear. Giac didn’t speak, but the thoughtful expression on his face as his gaze traveled over the hedges and flowerbeds conveyed a passive level of curiosity.

“Again, _yes,” _Giacomo said, exasperated. “And I didn’t know they would become … become _this, _at the time. Besides …”

Giacomo lifted his chin with a grin. “Money isn’t everything, now, is it?”

“You’re right,” Rocco said. “There’s also sex.”

“And that’s why I keep you around, Rocco!” Giacomo whooped, kicking his horse. “You’re a man who knows of the finer things in life!”

Giacomo’s horse whinnied, galloping toward the mansion. The building wasn’t much, compared to some of the sweeping manors Giacomo had been acquainted with in the past, but the beige stone and large bay windows reminded him of home and he couldn’t help but to find the place welcoming. Although, the dubious expression of the housemaid who stepped out as Giacomo approached countered that feeling.

“I’ve come to request an audience with the master of the house, if you’d be so kind,” Giacomo said, smiling down at the woman.

“And who may I ask is calling?” she asked in a high, clipped tone. She was rather plain, with a pale round face and reddish hair pulled up under her cap. _Someone _must’ve found her attractive, at any rate, considering she appeared a few months with child.

“Giacomo Casanova, the chevalier de Seingalt,” Giacomo said, making a show of dismounting. “I’m an old family friend of the Jilani’s. I’m sure Elando will be delighted to see me.”

The maid frowned. “Do you mean Hidalgo Elia?”

“That’s what I said.”

There was a huff, followed by the woman smoothing her loose-fitting dress over her belly. “Hidalgo Elia is out.”

The corner of Giacomo’s smile twitched. “His younger brother, then?”

“Also out.”

“The sister?”

The maid’s eyes darted to the side before returning to Giacomo’s face.

“Ah, dear Verona!” Giacomo said. “The two of us go way back! Surely, she would want to do some catching up. Along with her husband, of course. Unless he, too, is _out.”_

“Hidalga Verona is unwed,” the maid said. “But the Hidalga is preoccupied at this time.”

“Oh that’s quite alright, I don’t mind waiting.”

This wasn’t the answer the maid was expecting, and she didn’t bother hiding her displeasure. But Giacomo would be a fool to pass the opportunity up. Surely, an unwed woman of Verona’s age would appreciate Giacomo’s undivided attention, and he would be sure to make it worth her while.

It was a win-win, in his book.

“Martha, who is it?”

An older woman appeared behind the maid, Martha. She looked Giacomo up and down with a suspicious expression before her eyes wandered over his shoulder at the approaching Rocco and Giac.

“Giacomo Casanova, the chevalier de Seingalt,” Giacomo said, bowing with a flourish. “Here to make a social call on my old family acquaintance, Hidalga Verona Jilani.”

The older woman’s dark eyes hardened. “Hidalga Verona is pre–”

“Yes, yes, preoccupied, so I’ve heard,” Giacomo cut in. “I’m not in a rush, so I’m willing to wait until the lady of the house is free.”

Martha and the other maid exchanged a glance. The older woman nodded, and Martha returned her attention forward.

“If you’ll excuse me, _Senor; _I will inform the Hidalga of your presence.”

“Thank you kindly!” Giacomo said to her back. He kept his sugary-sweet expression as he was motioned to come inside with a half-hearted wave.

“Your servants can take the horses out back,” the older maid said. “A stableman will be fetched if they knock on the back door and ask for Iago.”

“Got that, boys?” Giacomo asked, looking over his shoulder. He received a thumbs-up from Rocco, and an unenthused glare from Giac.

“They got it.”

Giacomo stepped inside the mansion, and the door was closed behind him with a satisfying ‘thud.’

The open and bright entry hall with its colorful mosaic floor and grand archways was a sight to behold. The older maid – Francesca, as she introduced herself – was showing Giacomo into a sitting room furnished in reds and golds when Martha appeared atop the stairs.

“You can come up, Senor Casanova.”

“Already?” Giacomo said, a smile catching his lips. “Eager; I like that in a woman.”

This warranted a withering look from Francesca, but Giacomo paid her no mind as he bound up the steps. He stayed right on Martha’s heels as she hooked a left and waddled toward a large set of double doors. She knocked, waited a moment, then opened the heavy door with some effort. Giacomo reached overhead to offer her aid – if the woman was appreciative, she didn’t show it.

To Giacomo’s disappointment, it wasn’t Verona he’d been brought to, but the housekeeper. The woman at the desk was dressed in a plain brown smock, and seemed busy scribbling something on a document as she squinted at the text. She would occasionally lift a monocle to her eye to give something further study before resuming the scratching of her quill.

“Senor Giacomo Casanova, the chevalier de Seingalt,” Martha said with as little enthusiasm as possible. She gave a listless curtsy before leaving the room.

Giacomo watched the door click shut before turning back to the desk. He frowned, waiting for the servant to notice him and fetch her mistress. But the minutes continued to tick by with the housekeeper only moving to refresh the ink in her quill or tuck a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear. Impatient, Giacomo cleared his throat.

“State your business, Senor Casanova,” the woman drawled.

Giacomo strolled toward the desk. “I request the presence of Hidalga Verona, if you wouldn’t mind fetching your mistress.”

The woman finished writing something before setting her quill aside. She looked up at Giacomo with a tired expression. He figured the housekeeper would be rather attractive if she bothered to take a nap every once in a while.

“What business do you have with Hidalga Verona?”

“Just a social call from an old family friend,” Giacomo said, growing rather tired of having to repeat himself.

The woman blinked as if the very act of looking at him was putting her to sleep. “I don’t recall Hidalga Verona mentioning you.”

“Well a lady is entitled her secrets, hmm?”

The twitch to the corner of her mouth conveyed that the housekeeper found this statement amusing. She stood from the large desk, smoothed her skirt, then headed toward the back of the room.

“I’ll inform the Hidalga you’re waiting.”

Giacomo’s thanks floated after her as the woman disappeared behind another large set of doors. Once she was gone, Giacomo’s eyes wandered over the room. Traditionally, a room attached to a lady’s quarters would be used as a sitting area to entertain callers, but this room looked like it had been converted into an office; or a library based on the number of books lining the shelves. The mansion may not have been as large as Giacomo had previously surmised, considering the housekeeper’s business needed to be done here.

Although, the housekeeper filling out paperwork in and of itself was a bit of an odd practice. Normally that would be a job for the steward, who Giacomo had seen neither hide nor hair of since his arrival. It was possible that the housekeeper _was _the steward, which would be rather curious.

He had heard rumors of other countries beginning to open up their educational institutions to women, but he still couldn’t say he’d trust one with the administrative responsibilities of his home. What little he recalled from his past stewards was that the whole affair was rather complicated. And even _those _highly compensated men couldn’t have been too good at their jobs, concerning Giacomo once again found himself penniless.

The large door opened. The housekeeper returned, closing it behind her with a soft click. “Hidalga Verona sends her condolences, but she’s currently busy tending to other business that’s more pressing on her time.”

Giacomo glanced at the door before returning his attention to the housekeeper. “I was under the impression Verona was alone.”

“No, she’s currently tending to a caller.”

Giacomo raised his brows. “Is that so? Just the two of them?”

“Yes,” the housekeeper said, taking a seat behind the desk.

“A _gentleman _caller, is it?” Giacomo asked, eyeing the door with interest.

“Presumably,” the housekeeper said. She unscrewed a jar of ink, placing it to the side before reaching for the quill.

“You don’t seem very agitated over the fact,” Giacomo said, now studying the woman. “Does this sort of thing happen often?”

“It is not uncommon for Hidalga Verona to have a number of gentleman visitors,” she replied. She kept her eyes lowered as she picked up a stack of papers and began to shuffle through them.

_Well then._

This could make his job easier or harder, depending on how the pendulum swings – perhaps there would be an easier time gaining Verona’s affection, but a harder time keeping her attention. Luckily for Giacomo Casanova, he was a master at setting himself apart from the crowd.

“When would be a good time to call again upon Hidalga Verona, do you think?” he asked. The question went unanswered for a moment as the housekeeper hunched over the minuscule text of a crowded document. She straightened, crossing something out before raising her head.

“The Marquess de la Cadena is having a ball later in the week,” she said. “Hidalga Verona is planning on being in attendance, and will likely have time to socialize in that setting.”

The woman’s stiff way of speaking reminded him of a nun – and not the fun type of nun who lifted their skirts behind the abbey.

“Oh, naturally,” Giacomo said with an agreeable expression. “It’s just … I’m _new _in the area, you see, and of course I’m the type who should be allowed in without question, considering my title, but the Marquess might not be up to date with the latest information. I’m sure it won’t be a problem, mind, but _just _in case, I thought I might ask for the Hidalga’s endorsement.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” the housekeeper said. “Hand me that candle from over there, if you please.”

Giacomo dutifully fetched a candle from a small table against the wall. The housekeeper accepted it before scurrying out the door connected to the hallway. There must’ve been a lantern nearby, since she soon returned with lit candle in hand. She skewered the object on a wide metal base at the corner of the desk before rummaging through the drawers. Despite the clutter, the woman had _some sort _of system, since a small envelope and letter seal were revealed in a short manner of time.

“You must be important,” Giacomo said, watching the woman tilt the wax onto the envelope in a practiced manner. “The Hidalga entrusting you with her seal is a hefty level of responsibility.”

“The Hidalga trusts me with her life,” the woman said, stamping the envelope. “She knows I would only ever act in her best interests.”

The statement made Giacomo think of Rocco, and the sentiment warmed his heart. “It’s nice she has someone by her side to confide in – I know it could get rather lonely, otherwise.”

“Yes, I suppose it would,” the housekeeper said. She handed Giacomo the endorsement, and was back to having her nose in the pages almost as soon as the envelope slid from her grasp.

“Thank you for your help.”

Giacomo had grasped her ink-stained fingers before they pulled away. The housekeeper raised her eyes to regard him in a questioning manner.

“I don’t believe I got your name,” Giacomo said, placing a light kiss on the back of her hand. 

The woman studied him with an interest he hadn’t seen before. Giacomo was a fan of such looks – and what they tended to lead to – so he reacted with a warm smile.

“Lina,” the housekeeper said.

“Lina,” Giacomo said. “Lovely name, Lina – I like the way it rolls off my tongue.”

He kissed her hand again, Lina watching him with a raised brow.

“You seem to be working hard here, Lina,” Giacomo said, rubbing his thumb in slow circles over her smooth skin. “You said your mistress is otherwise indisposed, so perhaps you could get away with taking a short amount of time to relax.”

“If I’m going to relax, Senor Casanova, I would prefer for nothing to be short about it.”

Giacomo’s smile widened. “No one ever does, bellissima, and I can guarantee you’d wish spending time in my company would last a lifetime.”

“My, aren’t you charming?”

“That’s what they say,” Giacomo said. He turned Lina’s wrist, placing a soft kiss on the exposed part of her arm where the ruffled sleeve fell away.

“Do you know what they say about me?” Lina asked.

“Hmm,” Giacomo mused. “I’m sure you must’ve heard your hair shines with strands of gold in the candlelight, or the smell of ink and leather clinging to your frock make men want to open it up and read what’s inside.”

Lina chuckled. “No, I can’t say I’ve heard that before.”

“You have now,” Giacomo said. He leaned against the desk, running his fingers up and down the delicate flesh of her arm. “And I’m certain I’ll have much more to say if you allow me to read beneath the surface, Lina.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Senor Casanova,” Lina said, drumming the fingers of her free hand along the wood. “I’m curious to see what the Hidalga will think of you upon your meeting.”

“Hopefully something positive,” Giacomo said, his voice taking on a husky tone. “It would probably be in my best interest to do anything I can to make sure someone she trusts gives me a glowing assessment.”

“The thing that they say about me,” Lina said, pulling her hand away, “is that I’m wicked. You know that old saying about those who are wicked, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I don’t usually use that sort of language outside the bedroom,” Giacomo said with a grin.

“‘No rest for the wicked,’ is what they say,” Lina said. She motioned toward the door with a wave. A pout touched her visitor’s lips, but he respectfully withdrew.

“I’m beginning to see the reasoning behind how your Hidalgo runs his household,” Giacomo said. He smiled, tucking his hands behind his back as he backed away. “I can’t say I’m fully convinced on the merit of an educated woman; however I do see the appeal in being the only man present in one’s domain. Perhaps I’ll look into acquiring a woman steward myself, once I’m settled.”

“You’ll be hard pressed to find one,” Lina said, leaning her head into her hand. “But I wish you best of luck in that endeavor.”

“Would you consider a change in employment?”

Lina let out a barking laugh. “I guarantee you couldn’t afford me, Senor Casanova.”

Giacomo winked. “Money isn’t everything.”

* * *

“That was her, wasn’t it? Verona?”

“It was,” Giacomo said, helping himself to more wine.

“Did you know?” Edith asked, her eyes bright and posture rigid as she awaited the answer.

“No, because I had no reason to believe she was lying. And in fact, most of what she said wasn’t a lie, but it was easy to misconstrue depending on one’s perspective.”

“I take it she was clever?”

“Very, as you’re about to learn,” Giacomo said, a far away look in his eyes. “Verona was an educated woman, and she used it to the best of her ability. There were setbacks to it, of course, which is where I came in.”

Edith’s eyes grew wide. “The engagement?”

“The engagement,” Giacomo agreed.

* * *

If Giacomo had to pick one word to describe the members of Spanish nobility, it was _vibrant._

Everything from the clothes, to the wine, to the food burst with a vitality that Giacomo had been hard pressed to find outside Venice. Men and women floated about the open verandas in reds and golds and pinks, their laughter outweighing the valiant efforts of the string quartet.

Giacomo found his reputation preceded him; the nobility of Spain flitted in and out of his vision as they inquired about his escape from prison, invention of the French lottery, and his rumored confession to being a spy for the Russians. The last bit was all hogwash, but Giacomo knew that the truth wasn’t always a part of a good story, anyway.

“Hidalga Verona?”

The young man, Arrio, raised his brows. His uncle at his side took a sip of wine in an effort to hold his tongue.

“What?” Giacomo asked, looking between the two men. “Is it so unusual that I’d be asking for her?”

“Publicly,” the uncle, Casparo, said.

“Publicly?”

“She has a reputation,” Arrio explained. “You can say she’s not … _very highly _regarded in certain company.”

Giacomo deflated; he imagined his meal ticket drifting away in the breeze.

“Publicly,” Casparo added.

Giacomo frowned. He was missing something important; he just couldn’t see _what._

“So on the … erm … _down low, _what do they say about Verona?”

“Oh, almost everyone calls upon her,” Arrio said, Casparo nodding in concurrence. “Whether one approves of her … _affairs … _is one thing, but one would have to be an old fool stuck in their ways not to seek out Hidalga Verona Jilani.”

“Is that so?” Giacomo said, a smile creeping up his face. It sounded like Verona was rather well connected, and in a way that was far more familiar to Giacomo than politics or family lineage. A kindred spirit working their way up the ranks using their wiles and good looks was one he would happily make an acquaintance with. A woman like that, well –

_Henriette_

“Ah,” Arrio said, snapping Giacomo from his daze. “The Count of Vigo has returned. I believe he was the last one I saw conversing with the Hidalga. You’ll want to hurry, before someone else sweeps her away. She tends to do her business in private, so she can be difficult to track down once someone has grabbed her attention.”

Giacomo gave the men his thanks before jogging across the veranda. He broke through the crowd of chatting guests, his eyes squinting as his gaze drifted over the dark hedges making up the winding paths of the manor. The Marquess’s residence had to be at least quadruple the size of the Jilani’s, and Giacomo believed wholeheartedly that it would be easy enough for him to go all night without bumping into the Hidalga unless he put in the effort. In fact, that seemed like it may even be the case before he spotted a familiar figure.

“Are you acting as chaperone this fine evening?” Giacomo said, approaching the woman.

Lina lowered the glass from her lips. The bags under her eyes were gone, indicating that despite her claim of getting no rest, she must’ve been able to catch a wink or two between their last meeting. She wore a vibrant pink dress adorned with ruffles, and her brunette hair was styled up in a braided bun similar to what many of the other woman sported.

“I told you, I always have Hidalga Verona’s best interests at heart,” Lina said, returning to her sherry.

“I was actually hoping to speak with her, if you wouldn’t mind pointing me in the right direction.”

Lina raised a finger. “You may find something of interest over there, Senor Casanova.”

Giacomo turned. A woman was walking arm-in-arm with a portly gentleman, the pair strolling in their direction at an idle pace. She was quite stunning – black pools of obsidian shining behind thick lashes, her pale skin extenuating the vibrant nature of her crimson dress.

“Hold this for me, will you?” Giacomo said, putting out his glass. Lina obliged without fuss.

Giacomo adjusted his deep blue jacket and strode forward. Verona was excusing herself from the portly man’s company, and Giacomo was waiting to make her acquaintance the second she turned around.

“It’s been a long time,” Giacomo said. He grinned as he held out his palm. Verona blinked, a curious look growing on her face as she placed her hand in his.

“It must be,” she said, her voice tinkling like a bell. “I can’t say I remember you, Senor …?”

“Giacomo Casanova, the chevalier de Seingalt,” Giacomo said, kissing the back of her hand. “I’m glad I was finally able to make your association. You’re a hard woman to get a hold of, Hidalga Verona.”

A switch had been flipped – and those hadn’t even been invented yet.

“How _dare _you!” Verona snapped. She pulled back her hand, her lips curling in disgust. “Comparing me to that harlot! If I were a man, I would kill you!”

“If you were a man, I’d be impressed,” Giacomo said, unable to help himself. The woman – who was clearly _not _Verona – regarded him with fire behind her eyes, her cheeks quickly changing a color to match the shade of her dress.

“I do apologize for the mistake,” Giacomo said, trying to salvage the situation. “I’m new to the Spanish court, and … ah, she’s gone.”

The woman in red stormed off, disappearing into the crowd. He could hear her voice – now a crack of thunder compared to the almost musical tone it had been before – echoing through the hall.

“Ooh, you’re in trouble.”

Lina was behind him, finishing off her sherry. She handed Giacomo back his glass before turning away.

“What the hell was that?!” Giacomo said, spilling half the contents of his drink as he waved. “You said that was Verona!”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Lina said. She helped herself to another glass of sherry from one of the servants. She thanked the man with a nod before heading toward the gardens. “Walk with me, Senor Casanova. We have half an hour before my next appointment, which should be more than enough time for you to beg me for funds.”

Giacomo stared at her retreating figure with a gob smacked expression.

_“You!”_

“Time is money, Senor,” Lina said, snapping her fingers. She paused to bunch up her skirt before descending the short steps. There was no further break in her stride as she reached the gravel and disappeared into the tall hedges.

Giacomo sprung into action. He leapt off the steps, pounding down the path before catching up to his charge.

“This entire time!” he said. His companion seemed unperturbed as she took an indifferent sip.

“What in _the world _was stringing me along like that for?”

“As if you weren’t going to do the same,” Lina said. “Don’t act so high and mighty with me.”

“I was _never!” _Giacomo said, insulted. “I never once lied to you, or tried to fool you about my intentions!”

“Oh, no, you wouldn’t do that,” Lina said, giving him the side eye. “Seeing as how we’re such _old friends_. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Well,” Giacomo said, his blue eyes suddenly finding the hem of her dress very interesting. “I mean, _I _considered you a friend.”

Lina finished her drink. “Based on what? All the visits? The countless letters? Or perhaps the _riveting _conversations we used to have? I do recall you were quite the talker.”

Giacomo was practically drowning in the sarcasm. “Alright, alright,” he mumbled.

“Hold my glass,” Lina said, offering it to him. Giacomo frowned.

“Hold my glass,” Lina repeated, _“chevalier de Seingalt. _That means you were knighted, doesn’t it? Funny, you don’t seem like the type to fight in any wars.”

“I –”

“I don’t believe that title amounts to much of anything, does it? You’re a commoner, _Senor, _just as you were when we met all those years ago. And you will hold a noblewoman’s glass when she demands it.”

Giacomo made a frustrated sound. He snatched the item from her outstretched hand.

“Just so you know,” he said. “I’m holding it not because you ‘demanded’ it, but because it’s the nice thing to do.”

“Oh, so you’re just a pushover.”

Giacomo’s jaw dropped. “Alright, just, _stop _with the insults for two seconds! Please!”

Lina waved in a dismissive manner. “Fine. Let’s just get on with the part where you beg to whore yourself out for money, and I can send you on your way. I have _real _propositions to consider tonight, Senor Casanova, and I would rather not miss out on meeting with men who actually have coin to invest.”

Giacomo sputtered. “What part of that wasn’t an insult?!”

“Most of it,” Lina said. “Although I did call you a whore. I do apologize – that was rather vulgar. Do you prefer the term harlot?”

“Now see here!” Giacomo said, blocking her path. “I don’t know where you’ve picked up this perception, but by no means do I whore myself out for money!”

“Oh, no?” Lina said, pursing her lips. “I suppose one can’t always believe the gossip.”

“They shouldn’t,” Giacomo said. “And you should know more than anyone, based on what the blokes around here say about _you.”_

The smirk on Lina’s face fell away. Despite everything, a pang of guilt shot through Giacomo’s heart. There was something about seeing a woman – _any _woman – distraught, that stuck deeply with him.

“I, um,” Giacomo said, the anger dissipating. “I didn’t mean to offend – apologies.”

Lina studied him as if he’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “Don’t apologize; I insulted you.”

“Even so.”

Lina didn’t seem to know what to do with him. She huffed, looking away. “Make your request, Senor. I’ll listen.”

“Ah …”

The wind had officially left Giacomo’s sails, and he couldn’t find the energy to get it back. It was clear that pursuing Verona was a dead end. Her perception of his reputation may’ve been off, but –

“Hold on a tick,” Giacomo said. His eyes narrowed as Lina returned her attention to him. “Aren’t you the same as me? Using your … _connections _… with the men of this court to move up the ranks?”

Lina’s jaw dropped at the perceived indignity. “If I were a man, I’d duel you for such an insult!”

“You lot seem to be right fond of that,” Giacomo said.

“My business is legitimate, Senor Casanova, and I will not hear you accusing me of using anything but coin and my own sense to run it.”

Giacomo smiled, although he didn’t appear to understand the joke. “Business? What business could you possibly have with so many members of the court that isn’t … you know …”

“Are you joking?” Lina said. “Jilani Shipping Company? Surely you knew that?”

“Well, yes, of course I was aware of your family’s company - I’m not a fool,” Giacomo said. “But what does it’s affairs have to do with you?”

“I run it.”

Giacomo laughed. The enraged look had once again taken over Lina’s features. His laughter slowly died away, and the smile fell as he regarded her. He stared, eyes widening.

“No! _Really?!”_

“Why is it so hard to understand?” Lina said, the muscles in her neck working as she clenched her jaw. “I’m educated – probably more so than half the men in this court. _I _was the one who surveyed my family’s land and sold the lumber. _I _was the one who searched high and low for a shipwright sharp enough to meet my standards, but without the reservations of working under a woman. _I _was the one who invested in lumber and steel and cotton until I had enough money to purchase my own ore mine. _My ships _are the ones that sail to the Americas and back without so much as springing a leak. _My crews _are the best sailors money can buy, and wouldn’t dream of skimming cargo. Why can’t anyone ever believe that?!”

Lina was stamping her heeled shoe in a fashion that made her appear to have the temperament of a toddler instead of a woman in her mid-thirties. Her companion watched the display in stunned silence while she wore herself out.

“Apologies,” Lina said after a moment. "That was rather uncouth." She took a deep breath, smoothing back the hair around her face that had blown loose.

“I mean no offense,” Giacomo said, lifting his palms in submission, “but everyone says it’s your younger brothers who run the business.”

“Of course they do,” Lina said. Her voice shook, but when she cleared her throat, the waver was gone. “No one would do business with us, otherwise. Even my partners here in Spain like to pretend I merely act as a liaison. They _know _who it is running things, but they can’t admit openly doing business with a woman – they’d be laughed out of the merchant guilds and pegged as fools.”

“Well, I’m sure you understand that it’s unprecedented,” Giacomo added.

“Really?” Lina said, her voice dripping in contempt. “Is that what you think?”

Giacomo was in an odd position. Part of him found being in Lina’s – or Verona’s – company incredibly uncomfortable. But at the same time, his ever-present curiosity was whirling within his brain and clouding all other thoughts of taking his leave.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked. “Since you came to Spain? That was over ten years ago, wasn’t it?”

“Around twenty,” Lina said. “My brothers were still young, and finishing their studies was important. My father never intended for any of us to inherit the business – he knew the future was in getting an education, not cobbling shoes. None of us had a knack for it, anyway.”

“And your brothers simply … allow you to do all this?”

“They don’t have a choice.” At this, Lina smiled. “They had no interest when they were younger, and only marginally so more now that they’re grown. Elia only shows his face as the company head for important functions – otherwise, he’s busy writing his novel. Helio has more interest, but he’s currently busy with politics and starting a family. He’ll probably take over the business in a few years when he settles down.”

“Uh huh,” Giacomo said, crossing his arms. “You’d think they’d arrange you to wed. If they have no interest, it should be your husband running the business, not you.”

Lina raised her brows. “You act as if they’re doing me a disservice.”

“Aren’t they?” Giacomo said, shrugging. “This isn’t your place – look at what it’s done to your reputation. They should be looking out for you.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned,” Lina said, her smile laced with something predatory, “it’s to keep one’s mouth shut when one doesn’t know what they speak of. I believe you’re wading into that territory, Senor Casanova.”

Giacomo lifted his arms in a defeated motion. “Alright, fair enough – your business is your own. And I’ve picked up on the distinct feeling that you have no intention of doing any dealings with the likes of me.”

Lina cocked an eyebrow. “Unless the news of you losing your fortune to gambling was merely another baseless rumor?” 

“No … No. That one was true, I’m afraid.”

She shook her head, although Lina regarded him with a much kinder expression than before. “I wish you best of luck, Senor Casanova, in whatever your endeavors may be.”

“And you, Hidalga Verona.” Giacomo frowned. “Is that what I should call you?”

“Yes, since Lina is only what I’m called when I’m not in public.”

“And you’re so sure we’ll never meet again in private?”

Lina met his smile with one of her own. “I’m afraid my schedule is rather full, Senor Casanova.”

“I have a talent for writing myself in,” Giacomo said with a wink. This elicited a laugh, and he couldn’t help but to admit it was a lovely sound.

“I have an appointment to make,” Lina said. “And you should probably head out through the gardens, since the Marquess de la Cadena’s wife isn’t overly fond of me, and your earlier mistake probably won’t bode well for keeping all your fingers.”

Giacomo regarded her in horror. His look was only met with another laugh as Lina turned her back to him.

“That was a joke,” he said, voice wavering. “It was, wasn’t it? Hidalga Verona?”

Lina didn’t answer, only waving over her shoulder.

* * *

“Ah, yes,” Giacomo said, smiling. “Lina was a bitch.”

Edith gasped, clutching the material of her dress as if it were needed to keep her heart pumping. “Sir Casanova! How dare you use such language!”

“I mean it in the most endearing way possible, mind,” Giacomo said. “And seriously, my dear – I’ve used much worse up to this point. Should I reiterate the time I made love to the Tosello sisters?”

“No! No!” Edith protested, a blush rising up her cheeks. “That’s quite alright.”

Giacomo laughed, blue eyes sparkling.

“Well,” Edith said, looking to get back on track. “That was quite a shock, wasn’t it? A woman making her own fortune like that?”

“Very new age,” Giacomo said. “I suspect few are aware of her being the mastermind behind it all.”

“Whatever became of her?”

Giacomo smiled. “I believe you’re getting a little ahead of yourself.”

Edith didn’t seem amused. “Alright, then. Obviously, it doesn’t end at the ball. Did you eventually end up courting her?”

“Not exactly,” Giacomo said, delighted at the effect his vague answers seemed to have on his audience. Edith was staring at him, her fists twisting the material of her sage green dress in her lap. He knew what she was looking for, much like he knew what she wanted to hear when it came to Henriette.

_A happy ending._

Giacomo studied the young woman with a pitying expression. Surely, she knew the answer couldn’t be what she wanted. Giacomo was, very clearly, alone.

There would be no happy endings here.

* * *

“Giac!”

Rocco burst into the small schoolhouse. Giacomo was standing before a blackboard, half an arithmetic equation scribbled out on its murky surface. Seven sets of eyes stared from where a group of slack-jawed children regarded Rocco from their desks.

“Rocco?” Giacomo said, removing the reading glasses he used more for show than utility.

“I got news,” Rocco said, shoulders heaving. “I think it’s information that can be worth something to the right person.”

“What are we talking?”

_“A lot _of something,” Rocco said, wiggling his brow.

“Schools out, go home,” Giacomo snapped, tossing aside the book in his arms without a care.

“But we just started!” one of the boys said in a high-pitched whine. His complaint went unanswered as his schoolteacher strode out the door without a second glance – never to return.

* * *

“He’s back.”

Lina lifted her eyes. Martha stood in the doorway to her office, wearing a weary expression. It’d been months, but it was easy enough to guess who the maid spoke of.

“Whatever for?”

“Senor Casanova won’t explain,” Martha grumbled. Her son was having trouble sleeping through the night, and Lina had soon learned to be patient with the woman who was currently trying to function on less than four hours of sleep. “He said something … business.”

Lina glanced down at her paperwork. She let out a long sigh. “Invite him in. He won’t leave, otherwise.”

Judging by the fact that Lina was barely able to get through the next paragraph of the tariff report before Giacomo came bounding into the room, she surmised that the man must’ve already been making his way down the hall during her chat with Martha. It was a breach in formality that didn’t sit well with her, and the shit-eating grin on Giacomo’s face only made her all the more irritated.

“And what business does a destitute tutor believe to be important enough to warrant an infringement on my time?”

“It’s a pleasure to see you as well, Hidalga Verona.” Giacomo closed the door behind him. “And I must say that it’s flattering to think you’ve been keeping up with my affairs, Lina.”

“You’re a celebrity,” Lina said, putting down the paper. “It would be more unusual if I _didn’t _know.”

“Well, in any case, I hope the shipping business has been well?”

Giacomo reached the desk and extended his hand. He received a reproachful look, but ink-stained fingers met his own. He lifted the hand to his lips, lingering for longer than necessary before releasing his grip.

“What business do you have, Senor Casanova?” Lina asked.

“Right to the point; spoken like a true woman of venture,” Giacomo said. His eyes danced around the room until he found a chair tucked into a small desk facing the wall. His companion tracked his movements as he fetched the chair and planted it, then himself, before Lina in a grand fashion.

“I take it you’re familiar with the East India Trading Company?”

“I don’t believe I would’ve made it very far in the industry if I wasn’t,” Lina said.

“And so you’re aware they contract ships outside their company for certain voyages?”

“Yes. Can you –”

“And you’re aware that they lost a rather large shipment of salt due to one of these contract ships going rogue?”

Lina’s brow furrowed. “When?”

“Heard about it today,” Giacomo said, the smug look returning.

“How?”

“A man must be allowed _some _secrets,” Giacomo said with a wink. This didn’t appear to sit well with his companion.

“Can you validate this claim?”

“Can you?”

“Of course,” Lina said. “I’ll probably be sent a correspondence, soon enough, if the story is true. However, I fail to see how a mutinous crew from a rival company has anything to do with me.”

“It does if the salt supplier is looking to take their business elsewhere,” Giacomo said, beaming. This elicited the sort of reaction he’d been hoping for.

“Who?” Lina said, leaning forward.

“Colina Sur.”

Lina deflated like a punctured balloon. She leaned back in her seat with a groan, and the chipper expression on Giacomo’s face immediately crumbled.

“What is it?”

“Just my luck,” Lina said, rubbing her eyes. _“Of course _Colina Sur is looking outside East India when my brothers are gone. Helio was just here a week ago! Why couldn’t the crew have gone rogue _then?_”

“Oh,” Giacomo said, understanding dawning on him. “I take it they won’t speak to you?”

“I could wake their proprietor every morning for a week by banging two gold bricks together, and he still wouldn’t give me the time of day,” Lina said, put out.

“I’d be more than happy to teach you another way to wake a man in the morning that may bestow you better results,” Giacomo said. He wiggled his eyebrows as Lina regarded him in disgust.

“He’s an old codger,” Lina spat. “I could promise him enough money to buy up all of Europe and he’d still refuse me on principle.”

“A company representative, then?” Giacomo said. “You must have a man you could send.”

“I have several,” Lina said, her gaze drifting to the corner of the room. “Senor Ruiz de Alcado is our representative among the local tradesmen. He’s courteous, knowledgeable, and outstanding at negotiations.”

Lina continued to stare, unmoving. Giacomo ventured a guess at what was churning behind her dark eyes.

“But?”

“He won’t even get through the door,” Lina said. “Colina Sur’s proprietor is a Viscount; he would see it as an insult if I sent anyone without nobility status.”

“Even if you came along?”

_“Especially _if I came along,” Lina said with a huff. “I wouldn’t get through the front gate, much less the front door.”

Giacomo stared at Lina, knees bouncing. He was enough of a businessman himself to smell that there was profit to be made, and he knew that he wouldn’t get a piece of the pie if it was never baked.

“What if your brother _was _to show up?” Giacomo ventured. That sort of statement certainly garnered Lina’s full attention.

“How?” she asked. Her answer was Giacomo indicating himself with a grandiose wave.

“The Viscount’s met them before,” Lina said, her gaze once again drifting away. “And even if he didn’t, how would I explain them suddenly transforming into an entirely different person upon a future meeting?”

“Well, the Chinese have been developing a number of different beauty regimens, and I’ve even heard rumors they can modify one’s appearance however they like.”

Lina’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no way you can verify that.”

“Exactly!” Giacomo said, brandishing a finger. “There’s no way _anyone _could verify that. Thusly, who’s to say it isn’t true?”

Lina dropped her face into her hands. “If you have nothing else of merit to contribute Senor Casanova, I’ll ask you to take your leave.”

Giacomo balked at the indignation. “I’m the one who brought you the bloody info! I deserve to be folded into this!”

“There is no ‘this,’ Senor!” Lina said, throwing up her hands. “I’m simply going to ready a message to my brother for when I get the final word that this rumor is true. If I'm lucky, he may be able to travel back within the month and meet with Colina Sur then. _If_ they’re still searching for a new fleet, that is.”

Giacomo rose from his seat, waving his arms. “No, no, no! The whole thing could be wrapped up by then! You can’t give those East India bastards a chance to wiggle their way into forgiveness! Strike while the coals are hot and all that nonsense, yeah?”

“Ideally,” Lina said. “But without a representative with some sort of title to send, I’m afraid I have no choice.”

Giacomo opened his mouth, then closed it again.

* * *

“I was going to comment on how Lina wouldn’t have this problem if she were married,” Giacomo said, hitting Edith with a coy smile. “It was going to be a jab along the lines she was so fond of … until it became an idea.”

“And what did she say?” Edith asked, holding her breath.

* * *

_“You?!”_

“Me!”

“If I required a clown, Senor Casanova, I would call for one!” Lina said.

“No, no … just listen! You need a representative of the Jilani family – someone with a title. I’ve already got one of those, and if I were your fiancé, then I’d have a direct connection to the family as well! It’s perfect!”

“Except for the fact that it’s a complete lie!” Lina said.

“People get engaged for much less!” Giacomo countered. “And it can be just like our first go around! The two of us are engaged ... until we’re not. We can just say some rubbish about how we’re not a good match, and no one will know the wiser!”

_“I’d _know the wiser!” Lina said, her voice taking on a high-pitched squeak. “This isn’t the kind of establishment I run! I will not have my contracts built on the back of a lie!”

“But it wouldn’t be a lie!” Giacomo said. “Verbal contracts are binding, yes?”

“Well –”

“In one sense or another,” Giacomo interjected. “So, Verona Bambalina Jilani, will you marry me?”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Verona Bambalina Jilani,” Giacomo repeated, holding his hand out with an innocent expression. “Will you marry me?”

Lina stared at his outstretched hand as if he were offering her a chunk of cow manure.

“Do you think you can do it?” she asked, her eyes snapping to his. “Do you think you could get him to sign a contract for his next shipment?”

“I think I could get him to do several,” Giacomo said, his smile growing to something more smug. “I’m excellent with people.”

Lina glanced at his hand again, but folded her arms. “And if you can’t?”

“Then nothing comes if it,” Giacomo said, undeterred. “This was an opportunity that was likely going to run through your fingers, anyway. You have nothing to lose.”

“Except for my dignity.”

“It’s not good for someone in business to hold on to that for too long, anyway,” Giacomo said. The joke earned him a glare, but his smile only widened. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.”

Lina regarded him with a scowl. “And what do _you _get out of this?”

“Forty percent.”

Lina sputtered. Her companion waited patiently for the fit to pass.

“By what reasoning could you possibly think you’d earn forty percent?!”

“By the reasoning that you getting sixty percent is better than zero,” Giacomo stated.

“Ten.”

“Thirty.”

Lina's frown deepened. “Twelve.”

“If this happens at all, it’s because of me,” Giacomo said with an air of superiority. “Anything below twenty-five would be a disservice to my contribution.”

“Eighteen percent.”

“Deal.”

Lina regarded his open palm as she rose to her feet. She extended her hand and gave a slight twist to Giacomo’s wrist to turn their clasp into a shake.

“Verona Bambalina Jilani,” Giacomo said, knowing now that he was only being cheeky. “Will you marry me?”

Lina looked at him with a weary expression.

“I suppose.”

* * *

Edith’s lips pursed like she’d bit into a lemon.

“Not as romantic as you’d hoped?” Giacomo said, holding in his laughter.

“Not exactly, no,” Edith said.

“Lina was an interesting breed of woman – as intelligent as she was, she wouldn’t recognize romance if it came up and bit her on the nose. I had my work cut out for me, in that regard.”

Edith’s temperament flipped. “So you _did _try to court her!”

Giacomo tilted his head to-and-fro in contemplation. _“Grooming _her may have been a more accurate term. The poor pet would sooner work herself to death than take any offers of courtship in earnest. In good conscious I couldn’t leave her in that state; not after her offering to make me wealthy beyond my wildest imaginings.”

“Was that deal with the salt merchant really that profitable?” Edith asked, amazed.

“Oh, no – it wasn’t just Colina Sur. There were many more deals after that one, although I will say I’m quite proud of my first conquest in the shipping empire.”

“What did you do?”

“Well …”

* * *

“… will be calculated prior to departure and paid forthwith in conjunction to services rendered.”

“Ooh, I like that part about ‘services rendered,’” Giacomo said with a grin. “Do say that again.”

The blonde woman smiled. She shifted her position from where she lounged on the wide table, her dress sliding down to expose her right shoulder.

“Services,” the woman cooed, drawing out each syllable. “… rendered.”

“Oh, she’s an ace reader, isn’t she?” Giacomo asked, regarding the man by his side. The elderly Viscount didn’t meet his gaze, the only indicator that he heard Giacomo at all being a slight nod.

“I used to be a lawyer, you know,” Giacomo said, throwing an arm over the back of his chair. “I’d spend countless hours reading through all those old rulings and things – dreadfully boring, I can tell you. But then one day, I learned that some of my more distinguished colleges in the field had their assistants read the text aloud – sticks better in the memory, from what they’d say. Usually, this was done by an apprentice or student of some sort, but _I _thought how much better it could be if not only the words, but the person _speaking _those words, gripped my attention. Along with gripping some other things, after a fashion.”

Giacomo smiled at the Viscount, who was busy ignoring him entirely as the woman dictating the contract flipped her long hair over a shoulder.

“I must say, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Viscount,” Giacomo said. He looked to his other companion, indicating her to continue with a wink.

* * *

“And that worked?” Edith asked, skeptical.

“Well, I _did_ have to make a few modifications to the original contract,” Giacomo said. “Colina Sur signed themselves over to do business with the Jilani Shipping Company indefinitely.”

“Really?!”

“Oh, yes,” Giacomo said. “And I walked away with eighteen percent of an ongoing agreement. When I gave Lina the news, I never witnessed someone so torn between being ecstatic and furious all in one go.”

“So then you were rich again?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t say that,” Giacomo said. “I was no longer destitute, although my arrangements improved quite rapidly soon thereafter. You see, the rumor that Lina and myself were engaged started to spread. I had no intention of this, mind you – the arrangement was supposed to be a simple one-off for Colina Sur. However …”

* * *

“Senor Casanova!” A nobleman exclaimed, materializing from the throng of exuberantly dressed men and woman at the ball. He linked his arm with Giacomo’s, sweeping him to the dance floor. “I’ve heard the news! A noteworthy gentleman like yourself emerging out of nowhere and claiming the hand of such a scandalous woman as Hidalga Verona Jilani has created quite the buzz! You must tell me _all _about it!”

“Ah, well I –”

“Oh! Casanova!” A plump woman in vivid blue turned Giacomo around to face her. “You’re all anyone seems to talk about! Oh, you poor dear. I’m sure the fortune is tempting, but for the chevalier de Seingalt, I’m sure you could find a woman of much higher virtue.”

“Ah, well, that’s actually a bit of a misconception concerning Hidalga Ver–”

“Casanova!”

“Oh, bloody hell, what?!” Giacomo said; eyes wide.

“I hear you represent the Jilani business now, dear boy,” an older man with a rather impressive beard said. “I can’t say I approved of how the company conducted their business in the past, but to have such an accomplished gentleman like yourself at the helm has put many of my doubts to rest. I’ve heard about your dealings in Paris, and I’d be curious what thoughts you may have concerning the shipment of my dyes to their court. I’m sure I can make it worth both our time, if you have a moment.”

“Ah,” Giacomo said, wheels turning. “Yes, yes of course. Absolutely.” He smiled like the cat who ate the canary. “Let’s chat!”

* * *

“I should have you imprisoned!”

“Ooh, no,” Giacomo said, looking squeamish. “I’ve tried that, and as it turns out, it’s actually quite awful.”

“You’re impersonating being a member of my company!” Lina said. She scooped up the stack of papers at her desk, waving them in Giacomo’s face. “These are all contracts made under false pretenses!”

_“Those _are all contracts you would never have gotten otherwise if it hadn’t been for me!” Giacomo said. “My reputation from Paris has half the court falling over themselves just to say they’ve done business with Senor Casanova!”

“Are they daft?!” Lina said, throwing up her arms. “You were in prison for impersonating various professions! You lost a fortune to gambling that should’ve lasted you a lifetime!”

Giacomo cleared in his throat. “Well, I don’t do the gambling anymore.”

“Only because you don’t have the money!”

Giacomo opened his mouth, closed it, then consented to the point with a shrug.

“I should’ve known,” Lina said, tossing the papers aside. “I should’ve known trusting you was a mistake.”

Giacomo was half tempted to storm out the room then and there. Despite Lina’s accusations of ‘false pretenses,’ Giacomo had worked hard to carry negotiations and craft the agreements into ones that would benefit Jilani Shipping. Memorizing the contract for Colina Sur had been trivial, and using that knowledge – combined with his time in law – left Giacomo fashioning contracts he was sure were up to snuff. If Lina would even bother to look at them, anyway.

“Have you even read them?” Giacomo said, watching Lina pace. “Really looked them over? Perhaps you should hold your judgement until you’ve done so.”

“It doesn’t matter what the documents say!”

Lina ducked her head to hide her face. The act wasn’t very effective, since it was still easy enough for Giacomo to pick up on the shaking of her hands and the waver to her voice.

“You’re nothing but a clown, Casanova; and now I’m one, too, by association. Everything I’ve built – _everything – _is just a laughingstock among the court. I’ll never be able to get that respect back. I’m a joke – the woman who played at being clever only to find herself falling for the wiles of a charming criminal. That’s all they’ll ever say; that’s all that will be left of my legacy.”

Lina bumped into something soft. She raised her head as Giacomo enveloped her in his arms.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

Giacomo was nearly halfway across the room in an instant, palms raised. He watched Lina with a pitying expression as she heaved.

“Oh, it’s easy for you,” she spat. “You can just leave. You can go and be whatever you want; _whoever _you want. You’re not trapped; you’re not _bound. _You could make your fortune nearly anywhere in this world without trouble.”

A memory floated to the surface – dark eyes reflecting the firelight, red lips curled in a sad smile.

_‘I can’t return to this, Giac.’_

Henriette wanted to fly, but she hadn’t been born with wings. The only way to get out of the muck trying to pull her down was to find someone else to lift her up. Grimani offered to place her above the clouds; he had promised to put her there, and never let her fall back down.

_‘You will forget me.’_

“You’re right,” Giacomo said, his mouth dry. “I have far more opportunities than you to start over, to move on. But I can’t, and I won’t. No matter where I go, no matter what I do, I’m bound to something I’m going to spend all my days chasing. I think I’m like you – we’re both reaching for the unattainable.”

Lina scowled, shaking her head. “I’m _nothing _like you.”

“But you should be,” Giacomo said. “At least in some ways. Not _all _the ways, which I’m sure is what you’re thinking. You need to roll with the punches – take what you’ve got and use it to your advantage.”

“How?!” Lina said, hands in the air. “I’m a joke!”

“You’re a _celebrity,” _Giacomo corrected. “You’re the talk of the court! Next time you show your face, everyone of any importance will be vying for your attention!”

“Only to laugh at me!”

“Then let them laugh!” Giacomo said, closing the distance. He stopped outside Lina’s personal space, the woman eyeing him with a guarded expression.

“Let them laugh, and you laugh along with them,” Giacomo said, attempting a reassuring smile. “All those distasteful things they have to say about your fiancé aren’t true, after all.”

Lina looked him up and down before speaking. “They’re not?”

“As far as they can prove.”

Lina opened her mouth, but Giacomo plowed on.

“It’s my word versus the word of the Venetian court - and let me tell you, I can be far more convincing than some stuffy paperwork written by lackluster bureaucrats.”

“But –”

“No one _cares!” _Giacomo said, elated. “That’s the beauty of it! They all want a good story, and no more. I could have a history as dirty as a stable boy’s boot, and they’d still come to me as long as they don’t step in something distasteful. It’s all about _the act.”_

Henriette’s face flashed before his eyes. He remembered their first meeting, and the way her playful tone brimmed with wisdom beyond her years.

“Now, chin up.”

Giacomo reached out. Lina's eyes tracked his movements as he gingerly placed his hand beneath her jaw. He tilted it up, lifting her chin to get a better look at the scowl adorning her face.

“Shoulders back.”

His hands hovered over her shoulders, but her back straightened of its own accord. He pulled away as Lina regarded him as if daring him to comment on the act.

“And now,” Giacomo said, opening his arms as if displaying a work of art, “you play the part. You act like you’re one of them, and soon enough, you will be.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing for all these years?” Lina said, her voice much steadier than before.

“You’ve been acting like a man,” Giacomo said. “You did it to demand respect, which I can understand. But there are other ways to gain respect that only a woman can accomplish.”

“If this is –”

“Not sex,” Giacomo interjected. _“Seduction, _yes, but that’s different.”

“How is that different?”

“You’ll see, all in good time,” Giacomo said. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, was it?”

Lina pursed her lips. She studied Giacomo’s cheerful expression, attempting to dissect his true intentions.

_She looks downright chilling when she does that,_ Giacomo thought._ We’ll have to work on her subtlety._

“What do you get out of this?” she finally asked.

Giacomo shrugged, “Not much. Simply all the benefits of being a prospective member of the Jilani family during my stay in Spain.”

“So you think you should continue acting as my betrothed?”

“It can work in both our favor, as I mentioned,” Giacomo said. “And as soon as we get you placed as the most viable merchant in the country, I can quietly bow out.”

“I can’t say that goal sounds very attainable.”

“This is a negation, Lina,” Giacomo said, a teasing inflection to his voice. _“Negotiate.”_

Lina huffed, but a smile escaped her lips. “I’ll write up a contract – and don’t call me Lina.”

“You’re my fiancée,” Giacomo said. He reached down to clasp her hand, raising it to his lips. “It’d be odd if I didn’t refer to you with a term of endearment.”

Lina looked unamused. “Good day, Senor Casanova.”

“Calling me Casanova is a little too formal for the degree of our relationship – my friends call me Giac.”

“Then I’ll call you Giacomo,” Lina said, taking back her hand. “Since it’s less formal, but I wouldn’t call you a friend.”

“Ah, playing hard to get,” Giacomo said, placing a hand above his heart. “That’s good. We can use an attitude like that when dealing with the merchants.”

“Take your leave, Giacomo,” Lina said, sweeping toward the desk. “You’ve left me plenty of work to do this afternoon.”

“Until the morrow, my fair lady,” Giacomo said, offering a low bow.

Lina adjusted her skirts before taking her place behind the grand desk. “If I have to tell you to leave a third time, it’ll be with a poker from the fireplace.”

Giacomo shot her a wink before taking his leave.

* * *

Lina was in the downstairs sitting room, this time around. She held a saucer in one hand and her teacup in the other, taking delicate sips. In her sweeping gown of dusty rose, she would’ve appeared like any other noblewoman entertaining a caller.

“This is how you should do business,” Giacomo said, indicating the meticulously decorated room of gold and reds as he took a seat on the other end of the small table. “Not behind bushes and columns at other people’s parties.”

“An unwed woman spending alone time with a man is frowned upon much less in public than it is in the privacy of said unwed woman’s home,” Lina said, not bothering to move her gaze from the window.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Giacomo said. He eyed a document sitting on the edge of the table, and he snatched it up. His eyes started drifting over the text as he continued. “You’re thinking like a man – all business. You don’t just invite the husband; you also invite the wife. You _entertain. _And when the wife steps away to undergo the strenuous process of wire being lifted and lace being pulled aside so she can relieve herself, you and the husband talk the intricacies of Chinese tariffs and cargo capacities.”

Lina’s expression remained blank, but her attention had drifted from the window to study her companion. Giacomo was leaning back in the small sofa, one leg propped up on the cushions as he squinted at the scroll in hand. His face cracked into a smile, and Lina looked away.

“And it seems like you’ll have plenty of excuses for entertaining," Giacomo said, "since I’ll be taking up residence here.”

“I can also give you a stipend for an apartment, if you would find that to be more comfortable,” Lina offered.

“Oh no, best to keep up appearances. I’ll be in a room adjacent to your own?”

Lina scoffed while Giacomo seemed rather proud of his own joke.

“Three adjoining rooms – one each for yourself, your manservant, and your son. You’ll have a washroom and your own study. And most importantly –”

Lina returned the light-hearted expression. “It’ll be on the opposite end of the house than my own quarters.”

“Be still, my heart,” Giacomo said, returning his attention to the document. He mumbled a few statements aloud to himself as he read, and at first Lina thought he was merely skimming the information. But every now and then he’d make the connection to some earlier reference in the document, and she was amazed to find that he was actually taking in every word. The skill was a little daunting, and she mused what Giacomo could’ve become had he more of a knack for the higher studies than for carnal pleasures.

“Hold on a tick!” Giacomo said, his foot pounding against the carpet as he leaned forward. This reaction was expected, and Lina fought to keep an innocent expression as she raised her cup to her lips.

_“Celibacy?!”_

Lina took her time returning her cup to the matching saucer. “Would that be a problem?”

“What the bloody hell do you think?!”

“I was told not to believe everything I hear,” Lina said with an innocent smile.

“Well that parts all true!” Giacomo exclaimed. “Then some!”

Lina set down her cup before folding her hands in her lap. “In seven months, Senor Casanova, a large portion of the East India Trading Company’s outstanding contracts will be up for renegotiation. This is a time that many rival companies put their best efforts forward in order sway these merchants toward another transportation establishment. For the past five years, I’ve only gained moderate success during that time. My brothers have been either previously indisposed or not keen enough in negotiations to garner much business. You, however, may be up to the task.”

Lina sat up straighter, lifting her chin. A spark of pride cut itself through the outrage as Giacomo regarded her.

“What I’m offering you is this – if you can attain at least five of the multi-million-peso contracts currently attached to East India, then you will receive a seven percent portion of not only those contracts, but all of Jilani’s business.”

Giacomo huffed. “Well, that’s hardly –”

“Payable every month for the remainder of your life.”

The contract fell from limp fingers. Lina held the stare of the blue eyes boring into her until her attention drifted toward her empty teacup. “Oh, how rude of me. Tea?”

Giacomo didn’t answer. He leaned back in his seat, running his hand over his face.

Lina nodded thoughtfully. “Hmm, wine then.” She rang a small bell at the edge of the table. Martha appeared, and went about fulfilling Lina’s request for a fresh cup of tea and a glass of Merlot.

“I’d be …” Giacomo finally croaked. “I’d have …”

“More money than you could ever spend,” Lina said. There was another pause as Martha returned to the room. Lina gave her thanks and blew over the hot tea.

Giacomo reached forward, grasped the wine, and downed it in one go.

“That’s a rare vintage, you know,” Lina said with a frown. “I bet you hardly tasted it.”

“Seven months?” Giacomo said, turmoil churning behind his eyes. “That’s longer than when I was in prison.”

“You honestly wouldn’t trade seven months of sexual endeavors for an entire lifetime worth of riches?” Lina asked in disbelief.

Giacomo frowned, tilting his head in contemplation.

“I believe my reputation has already taken enough strain,” Lina said, amazed that Giacomo was having so much trouble. “No matter what you say, there’s no way anyone could put a positive spin on one’s betrothed being caught sleeping his way through the capitol.”

“I never liked that term – _‘sleeping"', _Giacomo said, "It’s the opposite of sleeping, really.”

“Under my roof, you will act as any good God-fearing man would,” Lina said. “There will be no women, no gambling, and no stealing.”

“Might as well ban breathing, while you’re at it!” Giacomo said in protest. He strained his neck, looking about. “And what do I need to do to get some more bloody wine?!”

A tinkling sound cut through the air as Lina rang the small bell. “I must say I really am at a loss over the issue.”

“Do I look like a bloody nun to you?” Giacomo said, rounding on her. “Hell, I can attest personally that not even nuns agree to seventh months of celibacy! If they did, my own son wouldn’t exist!”

“Senor Casanova,” Lina said, using a soothing tone. “I think you’re – wait, what?”

“Ah, negotiations!” Giacomo said, clapping his hands. “Yes! Let’s negotiate! Seven months of celibacy … within the court. None of the noble women – cross my heart.”

“No.”

“Then outside the city!” Giacomo said, gaining steam. “Just a quick pop out to the country every now and then – no one would know the wiser!”

“Gossip spreads like wildfire, Senor Casanova,” Lina said. “Someone would notice, and word would get out.”

“Outside the country!” Giacomo said, bounding to his feet. “Surely I’ll be doing business with merchants from all over Europe!”

“Most likely,” Lina said. “And you’ll have myself in attendance if you do so. I can assure you, I’d rather see your head unacquainted with its shoulders than have you paint me as a cuckquean in a foreign court.”

“But it isn’t _fair!” _Giacomo whined, falling to his knees. “You’re already asking me to do all the work, then I’m not even allowed an avenue to release my pent-up emotions during trying times!”

“Get off the ground, Senor! You’re not a child!” Lina snapped. “And you doing all the work? Do you jest? Those contracts you brought me will have to be reworked ten times over before they can be considered contractually binding in the eyes of the Spanish court. This entire episode has me seriously reconsidering my offer.”

Giacomo groaned, leaning against the couch. He looked all the depiction of an oil painting where a subject was sprawled in lamentation due to the cruel works of one Greek god or another.

“To your feet, Senor Casanova,” Lina said, getting to her own. She rounded the table to offer him a hand. “You’ll damage the upholstery, leaning on it like that.”

Giacomo took her hand. He rose, a glum expression on his face as he kept his eyes lowered. His hand was enveloped in a smaller one, which patted his reassuringly.

“There, there. This may be the most nonsensical thing I’ve ever witnessed anyone be upset out, but chin up all the same.”

Blue eyes snapped to meet hers. Lina’s brows rose in a questioning manner.

“Well, the two of us are betrothed,” Giacomo said, his expression brightening. “That means we can provide each other a certain level of comfort, no?”

“No!” Lina said, pulling away. “Not with you! Not until I’m _actually _married!”

“Well, surely people will notice something’s off,” Giacomo said. “They’ll _talk, _as you say.”

“There is absolutely nothing unusual about two people saving themselves for marriage!” Lina said. “In fact, that’s what’s expected!”

“Do you _really _believe that?” Giacomo said, stepping forward. “Your brothers are married, are they not?”

“Yes," Lina said, trying to untangle where this was going. "What does that have to do with anything?”

“And did you seriously get no inclination that they wouldn’t have jumped into bed with their betrothed the second they had the chance?”

Lina's jaw dropped. “Eww, no! I don’t know! They’re my _brothers!” _

“I have yet to meet them,” Giacomo said, stopping before Lina. “But I can assure you, as a man, that the answer is yes. I believe the sign of a good pairing is if the man is hardly able to keep his hands to himself.”

Giacomo reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Lina’s ear. She flinched, but didn’t pull away.

“To put on a convincing act,” Giacomo said, leaning in to whisper, “there should be a spark – a level of tension hanging in the air like the seconds leading up to a lightning strike. People can feel that, and they’ll know if you’re faking.”

His eyes met hers. They were a honey-brown, and there was an innocence behind them that shone as certain layers were peeled away. Giacomo found that fascinating, and he traced his finger along the edge of her face.

“You can find consolation in me, if you’ll allow yourself,” he said, voice soft.

Lina reached up to remove the hand brushing her cheek. She pulled it away, but didn’t release her grip.

“I don’t need that,” she whispered. “I can take care of them on my own.”

“Take care of who?”

Lina didn’t answer. Her eyes tracked over Giacomo’s face as he leaned in.

“Everyone needs someone, Lina.”

Their noses brushed, and Giacomo could feel her cool breath washing over his face.

The door swung open as Martha entered the room. “My apologies, Hidalga Verona! I heard the bell ringing, but little Emmanuel was – oh.”

Lina nearly tripped over her skirt as she scrambled away. She made a quick show of righting herself before speaking in a clipped tone. “Please inform Iago that Senor Casanova requires his horse. He’ll be leaving.”

Martha glanced between Lina and Giacomo with a worried expression. “Yes, Hidalga Verona.” Her skirt was nearly out of sight as the last of the statement hit their ears.

“You may think over the proposal,” Lina said, avoiding Giacomo’s gaze. “But I will need an answer by the morrow. And you will behave yourself, Senor Casanova.”

“I thought we already established you can call me Giacomo,” her companion said. His eyes tracked her as Lina opened the door leading to the entryway. She shot him a final reproachful look before making her exit.

* * *

Despite the last story ending on a somewhat steamy note, Edith seemed put out.

“Again, not as romantic as you hoped?” Giacomo asked.

“She seems rather sad,” Edith said, lifting her eyes. “Doesn’t she?”

Giacomo wasn’t expecting this. He leaned back in his seat with a thoughtful expression. “Yes, I suppose she was. Although saying she was lonely may have been more accurate.”

“Did you love her?”

Giacomo chuckled. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself again, I see.”

“If you didn’t, why not?” Edith said, almost pleading. “Because of Henriette?”

“I think you’ve heard enough of this story for today.”

A startled look fell over Edith as she rose to her feet. “Oh, no, Sir Casanova! You can’t stop there! Please keep going!”

“If I had a shilling for every time a woman said that to me …”

The offended look on Edith’s face prompted Giacomo to laugh, holding his belly in his mirth.

“Be on your way, Edith,” Giacomo said. He hit her with a kindly smile. “We’ll pick up again tomorrow.”

Edith pouted, but mumbled a polite farewell before disappearing into the dark corridor. 

Giacomo regarded the door as it closed with a soft click. He stared at it for a moment before wandering to the window. The moon graced the tops of the pines surrounding the estate with white light – almost giving the appearance of snow-caps in mid-summer. He appreciated the scenery for some time before slowly making his way back to his desk.

Giacomo let out a low groan as he sat. He tended to hold such noises at bay when in Edith’s presence, but when he was alone there was little point in revealing his true age.

There was a small drawer built into the desk meant for inkwells and quills. This was what it was used for, for the most part, although Giacomo had tucked a letter in there months ago and hadn’t bothered to look at it since. He pulled it out with some difficulty, and studied the ink-stained envelope. He flipped it over, and ran his fingers along the crest stamped in navy wax. The wax depicted a miniature picture of a sandpiper flying over ocean waves, large initials beneath the logo reading J.S.C.

There was some hesitation, but Giacomo tugged at the envelope, snapping the seal. He opened the letter, pulled out its contents, and began to read.


	2. Chapter 2

“Welcome to your new digs, boys!”

Giacomo held his arms wide, admiring the suite. Rocco came up behind him, hefting the bag of their belongings off his shoulders.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, looking over the pristine couches before lingering on the wine cabinet. “This is nice and all, but _seven months _of no se–”

“Not in front of the boy!” Giacomo said, fighting to keep a cheerful tone. “This is a _God-fearing _house, dear Rocco, and we must do our best to set a good example!”

Rocco rolled his eyes. The boy in question walked into the room, and his father ruffled his dark hair.

“Better than that old, shabby apartment we were in, hmm?” Giacomo said. “You wouldn’t _believe _what your old man is doing for you, Giac. We’ll be living the life of nobles again in the blink of an eye, I assure you. Isn’t that great?”

Giac seemed sullen. Well, he _always _seemed sullen, so it was difficult for Giacomo to tell if there was ever something important weighing on the young man’s mind. It was generally easier for him to assume there wasn’t.

“Alright then!” Giacomo said, slapping Giac on the back. “Day one of two-hundred and fourteen! This’ll be easy! A real piece of cake!”

“You sound like you’re about to cry,” Rocco stated.

“Couldn’t be happier!” Giacomo said, his voice wavering. “Everything is tickity-boo! If you’ll excuse me.”

Giacomo was gone in a flash. A sigh escaped his ward’s lips.

“I’m gonna go make sure he doesn’t try to drown himself in the pond.”

* * *

“So you _really _agreed to it?” Edith asked, amazed. “Seven whole months of celibacy?”

Giacomo took a moment to respond. He was staring at the page before him, but in a manner which indicated he wasn’t truly _seeing _it.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Probably one of the more foolish things I ever agreed to – I was doomed to fail from the start.”

Edith deflated in her seat. “Well, I suppose that explains why you’re not one of the richest men in the world.”

“Oh, no – I gave my fortune away.”

Edith blinked, certain she had misheard. “I beg your pardon?”

“That,” Giacomo said, beaming. “Was _the _most foolish thing I had ever done, if you were wondering.”

“You … you … you _gave it away?!”_

“Well then, where was I?” Giacomo said, leaning over his book. “Oh yes, there was a ball twenty-five days later announcing our engagement. I knew the exact number of days, you see, since I had taken to keeping very close track.”

* * *

The door to Lina’s quarters opened, and the woman stepped out into the hallway. She shot Giacomo a nervous smile before placing her hand in his offered palm. They began to walk, Martha taking up the rear as she adjusted the draping skirt of Lina’s dress.

“Now remember, you’re a woman tonight,” Giacomo said. This caused his companion’s nose to scrunch up from the terminology.

“I’m a woman _every _night,” she said.

“You’re only to hold conversations with the noblewomen,” Giacomo said, ignoring her statement. “And no talk of business. Flattery goes a long way, but only toward items you know they had some control over – so the cut of their dress, their selection of adornments, their chosen topic of conversation. If they speak of importing Chinese crystal, then you’ll _love _Chinese glass-work and marvel at their good taste. If they whisper that a Marquess’ wife is sleeping with the steward, then you’ll appear outwardly offended but make it known that you still find the gossip tantalizing.”

“This is far too much work.”

“At least you didn’t have to read two books of tariffs,” Giacomo said, bitterness seeping into his tone.

“Of course not, I already know them by heart.”

“Careful,” Giacomo said. “Women like it if you’re cheeky, but only toward those outside the circle.”

Lina bunched up the front of her skirt before they descended the stairs in a cautious manner. “You sound like a schoolteacher.”

“Ooh, I rather like that one,” Giacomo said, tightening his grip on her hand to aid her balance. “The innocent student and the naughty schoolteacher. I was always the one playing the student, though; that’s how I got so good at French.”

“Please stop.”

“S'il vous plaît ne vous arrêtez pas,” Giacomo sang.

“That’s ‘please, don’t stop,’” Lina said.

“Ah, you’re correct. I suppose I heard that one far more often.”

Giacomo had been expecting a retort to this, but when they reached the landing, all Lina did was run her hands over her skirt. It became apparent the act was more than simply adjusting the material when he noticed the slight tremor. Lina's cheeks had been brushed with a peach blush, but it did little to hide the color draining from her face as she stared at the large set of doors leading to the ballroom.

“It suits you,” Giacomo said, hoping to provide a distraction. “The navy silk.”

“It’s my family colors, so I would hope so,” Lina said. Her hands were now busy fiddling with the hair falling loose around her face. She shot Giacomo a sideways glance, “your jacket is a blue-green. It’s … a nice color.”

“Teal,” Giacomo said, tugging at the lapels. “And it works rather well playing up the color in my eyes, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Giacomo said, offering up his hand. Lina took it, holding on tight enough for it to be painful, but her companion remained mum on the subject.

_“Always _take an opportunity to stroke someone’s ego. It doesn’t have to have any malicious intent behind it – in fact, it works better if it doesn’t. Learn to have a true interest in people, and you’ll be surprised how far that gets you.”

Lina took a deep breath, her mouth settling into a thin line.

“Chin up,” Giacomo said, “shoulders back. And smile – not too much. You’re happy to see them, but more importantly, _they’re _happy to see _you.”_

The mental imagery was enough for Lina to let out a barking laugh. “If you knew the people on the other side of this door, you’d know how ridiculous that is.”

“Beautiful – keep that face.”

A blush – a real one – rose on Lina’s cheeks, and she quickly turned away to regard Martha. She nodded, and the maid stepped through a side door. A moment later, the large doors leading to the Jilani’s ballroom opened with a flourish. Shoulders pushed back and chins tilted up, and the pair of charlatans stepped into the room as the footman announced their arrival.

“The Hidalga Verona Bambalina Jilani, and her betrothed – Giacomo Casanova, the chevalier de Seingalt!”

* * *

“She really has an enchanting smile, wouldn’t you agree?”

Giacomo raised an eyebrow at the tall man stopping at his side. The man’s brown hair fell in unruly curls, and the stubble on his chin indicated it may have been a few days since his last shave. He was still quite handsome, albeit the disheveled appearance was a bit off-putting.

“Are you going to steal her away?” Giacomo asked, returning his eyes to the group of women across the room. Lina stood among them, chatting and smiling as she cooled herself with a black paper fan.

“I just might.”

“As you should,” Giacomo said. “I was surprised you hadn’t done so before now – leaving her all alone in this big house.”

“My sister is stubborn,” the man said with a sigh. “And how did you recognize me?”

“There’s a portrait the length of a carriage hanging in the sitting room,” Giacomo quipped. “Would’ve been more unusual if I _didn’t _notice it.”

“Ah,” Elia said. He smiled as if he recalled something funny. “Lina insisted on that silly thing – I’m the head of the household, and I have to look ‘distinguished,’ as she’d say.”

“Not just the head of the household,” Giacomo said, helping himself to some wine. “The head of one of the largest shipping conglomerates in Europe.”

“A title that is in danger of slipping from my grasp, if this arrangement is to be believed.”

“Do you believe it?”

“Not one bit,” Elia said, also helping himself to an offered glass. “Lina would never throw a ball for an engagement – too frivolous, she would say.”

“But there’s a benefit to putting on appearances,” Giacomo said, returning the nod of a passing Count and his wife.

“Lina was never much for those, as I’m sure you’ve noticed as her _fiancé,” _Elia said.

“How much of our agreement has she told you?”

“All of it,” Elia said. He took a sip of the wine, scrunching up his nose. “Ah, dreadful stuff. Never had a taste for alcohol.”

“You don’t seem upset,” Giacomo said, studying the man. “If I was her brother, I’d be furious.”

“Oh, Helio has that covered,” Elia said, taking another sip of wine despite his previous claim. “I hope you’re well-practiced in swordplay, because Helio is an accomplished fencer.”

Giacomo chuckled, although the laughter died as Elia continued to look forward with a neutral expression.

“I … I mean,” Giacomo said, fighting to keep the smile on his face. “He’s not _really _going to … you know …”

“Don’t worry,” Elia said, patting Giacomo on the shoulder. “I’ll stop him before he hits anything vital.”

“Ah …”

“Elia!”

The men turned as Lina approached. There was a look of relief, joy, and love radiating off her like Giacomo had never seen. All other thoughts melted away as he watched her approach and throw herself into Elia arms. She squeezed her brother around the middle in a way that was far from appropriate considering the setting, but neither sibling seemed to care.

“It’s good to see you, dear sister,” Elia said, planting a kiss atop the crown of her head.

“Oh, and you!” Lina said, releasing her grasp. She clasped Elia’s hands as if he would float away without her anchoring him. “Where’s Maria?”

“Little Bambalina has a cough, and Maria refused to leave her care to the nursemaid,” Elia said with smile. “She sends her love, and has given me instruction to provide a full report of your beloved upon my return.”

Lina glanced to Giacomo, regarding him as if he’d appeared from thin air. “Oh, yes. Elia, have you made Senor Casanova’s acquaintance?”

“I have,” Elia said. “He’s much taller than the last time we met.”

“When you were _five?”_

“Like I said, much taller.”

Lina laughed, and Giacomo studied her as if he’d discovered a new species. He had never seen Lina so at ease, and all hints of hesitation or self-doubt melted away in her brother’s presence. She held her head high, and as others approached, she had no reservations making light conversation. The crook of her elbow was used to wheel her brother around like a show-animal, and the man did little more than smile and occasionally nod as his sister chatted.

Giacomo may as well have been a ghost for all the attention Lina garnered him. When guests brought him up in conversation, Lina spoke as if Giacomo were a continent away instead of standing four feet to her left. She spoke highly of him, if that meant anything, but didn’t even bother a glance in his direction.

The joke stopped being funny after an hour. It became even less funny when it was increasingly clear that there was no joke to be had – Lina was ignoring him in gleeful ignorance. Lina was the bell of the ball, as he’d hoped for, but Giacomo had been demoted to the roll of awkwardly playing off the fact that his bride-to-be seemed to want to have nothing to do with him.

What was worse was that he couldn’t even engage in any amusing conversations to pass the time.

“It’s so unfair, the Hidalga getting a fiancé who’s so handsome,” a young woman said, her lashes fluttering above her fan. “What I wouldn’t give to know the affections of a man like _you.”_

Giacomo cleared his throat with an uncomfortable cough. “Yes, well, best of luck with that.”

“I’ve never heard of a title like that before,” another woman said, sometime later. “’Chevalier de Seingalt.’ I do find the French culture so fascinating. You know, I’ve heard they call French the language of love. Perhaps you could find time to teach me about it?”

Giacomo closed his eyes in a silent prayer. “I’m afraid I’m a … rather busy man. Very, very busy.”

“You know, I believe we got off on the wrong foot.”

Giacomo had retreated to the part of the room as far away from most of the women as he could muster, but a familiar figure with pale skin and gleaming black hair found him anyway. The Marchioness de la Cadena wheeled him into a walk by snatching his elbow.

“I do apologize for my behavior on our last meeting,” she said, stroking his arm. “The Hidalga and I have had our disagreements, is all. She’s a handsome woman, so I can’t be too offended upon being mistaken for her. However, there are many areas where we differ, and I don’t just mean in our temperament. I can show you, if you like.”

“You know, I would _love to,” _Giacomo said, feeling like his head may explode at any moment. “Believe me when I say I would really, _really, _love to. But I … have to go do … something. _Anything. _I have to go do an anything. Goodbye.”

Giacomo found himself in the kitchen. It was the only place where the women only shot him reproachful glances between washing glasses or placing berries on tarts. Giacomo was snatching tarts off the trays as they passed him by – if he couldn’t have sex, he may as well get fat. He had to be allowed _some _sort of earthly pleasure during his time chained to the Jilani household.

_‘He doesn’t even want her,’ _Rocco’s voice echoed. _‘Grimani is only marrying her to get to you. But he has her whole family in his pocket, now – Henriette’s trapped.’_

Giacomo’s stomach dropped, and it wasn’t just the tarts.

* * *

“I couldn’t help but wonder,” Giacomo said, his eyes dancing over the sputtering fire, “what I would do in Henriette’s place. I had hated her for it, marrying Grimani. I had thought, ‘if she truly loved me, she would run. She’d find friends, family, even a convent, and wait for me. How easy it would be for her to flee.’”

Giacomo ran his hand over the broad, yellow pages. Edith waited without a fuss, allowing the older man to sort his thoughts.

“I realized how foolish I had been,” Giacomo said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Here I was in a similar situation – being asked to play a part I had no interest in for the exchange of a roof over my head and a stable future. I had a patron, just as she did, and I had committed myself to an agreement that left me a shadow of my former self. I was a hypocrite, through and through.”

Giacomo chuckled, although the dark nature of the sound conveyed there was no humor behind it. “It even turned out that there was no difference between our patrons, oddly enough. But I was too caught up in my own desires to see it, and thus began my downfall.”

The old man’s eyes returned to the page. He ran a finger along the lines of text, stopping when he found his place. A smile graced his lips.

“Ah, but that wasn’t quite yet. Not that night, at least.”

* * *

“Are you alright?”

Giacomo lifted his head from the bucket. He wiped his face in a vain attempt to rid the water dripping from his hair and the tip of his nose.

“Perfectly fine!” Giacomo said, smiling broadly. “Never better!”

Lina wrung her hands in a nervous fashion. She bunched up her skirts, attempting not to brush up against anything as she navigated her way through the cramped kitchen to where Giacomo leaned over the sink. “You’ve been gone for some time.”

“You noticed?” Giacomo said, allowing more bitterness to seep into the question than he intended.

“Of course I noticed,” Lina said, furrowing her brow. “You disappeared after chatting with the Marchioness de la Cadena. I thought you had gone to the toilet, but Martha couldn’t find you when I asked, and Francesca said you were back here.”

“Ah.”

Giacomo looked up, blinking the water from his eyes. “You seemed to be doing fine on your own – figured you didn’t need me.”

“You really think so?” Lina said, looking relieved. “I felt that I was only trying so hard knowing you were watching. I’m glad you believe I was doing well enough without your supervision.”

Giacomo regarded her with a puzzled expression. “You thought I was overseeing you?”

“Of course, to make sure I was doing things right,” Lina said. “That was why you were watching me, wasn’t it?”

“Of course,” Giacomo said, the words escaping his mouth before he had time to dwell on the thought. “But you appeared just fine when your brother was around.”

“Oh, I try to put on a happy face for Elia,” Lina said, looking sheepish. “I don’t want him to worry – he has a weak constitution.”

A chuckle escaped Giacomo’s lips. “So, you were wheeling him around like a show pony out of fear he’d collapse.”

“Was it that obvious?” Lina asked, suddenly distraught. “Oh, no … do you think anyone else noticed?”

Giacomo laughed again. He reached for a towel, running it over his face. “All anyone saw out there was a doting sister, which is agreeable enough. Now let’s head back in before you get more soot on your dress.”

_“More?!” _Lina exclaimed, dropping her gaze.

“Made you look.”

Lina scowled as Giacomo tossed the towel aside. He offered her his arm, but Lina ignored it as she reached for his face.

“Look what you’ve done,” she said, smoothing the hair going every which way. “What in heaven's name were you doing? You look like a madman.”

“Is that really so bad?” Giacomo asked. His eyes danced over Lina’s features as her brow furrowed in concentration. Something alarming stirred in Giacomo’s chest that he hadn’t felt for some time. He dropped his eyes, making quick work of pushing the feeling away.

“It would give them something to talk about, wouldn’t it?” Lina asked. She watched Giacomo with the same anticipation as a dog who'd learned a new trick.

“Look at you, catching on,” Giacomo said. He tilted her chin up with a tap of his fingers. This elicited an expression not unlike the one Lina gave her brother earlier that night. There was something different in it though – more of a spark that flashed behind her eyes. His chest grew tight again.

One of the cooks cried out as the doors to the kitchen swung open with a bang.

“There you are!”

A stack of silver trays hit the floor with a thundering crash as a man leapt atop the kitchen island. “Thought you could hide, did you? Coward!”

He brought two fingers to his mouth in a whistle. The sound of swift footfalls filled the air.

“Helio!” Lina screamed, stamping her foot. “Your shoes are _filthy! _Get down from there before I drag you down myself!”

“This man will not make a mockery of my sister’s affections!” Helio shouted. He was the spitting image of his older brother, Elia, if the man bothered to shave and get a haircut. He had a scar running the length of his left cheek up to his temple, and with a sinking feeling, Giacomo suddenly recalled the tidbit of information he’d learned earlier that night concerning the youngest brother.

“Helio!” a voice called. Two sabers were tossed from the entryway to the kitchen, Helio snatching them by the sheath.

“Have at ye, Senor!” Helio said, tossing one of the sabers to Giacomo. His target scrambled to catch the object, knocking a fair deal of pots and pans over in the process.

“Helio!” Lina shouted, slamming her palms on the table. “Giacomo Casanova is my betrothed, and you will treat him with the level of respect his rank deserves! Now if you don’t get down from that table this _instant, _I swear to the good Lord above I’ll give you a scar to match the first one I gave you!”

“But –”

“Helio!”

“But you –”

“Now!”

“But Lina –”

“Here,” Giacomo said, nudging Lina’s elbow, “take the sword.”

Helio found himself highly motivated to get off the table. A bowl of used ladles and spoons clattered to the floor, causing the young man to wince.

Lina made a distressed sound, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sure everyone heard all of that. Oh, no, what am I going to say?”

“Tell them we’re having a duel, and to go out to the garden to watch,” Giacomo said.

“What?!” Lina exclaimed.

“What?” Helio said.

“It’ll make it a shindig to remember,” Giacomo said with a wink. He turned his attention to the youngest Jilani, who now regarded him with a stupefied expression. “Just, try not to kill me, alright? You can still win, of course, but try to make it more ‘showy’ and less ‘staby.’”

“Is he mad?” Helio asked, looking to Lina.

“Obviously.”

Helio sniffed, straightening his posture. “Have it your way. My sister told me to treat you with respect, which I’ll express by not gutting you like a trout.”

“And not the face,” Giacomo said, indicating it with a wave. “Although, I’m sure that scar does wonders for you when it comes to members of the opposite sex.”

A proud smile crept up Helio’s face. “Being rich and handsome also helps.”

“Does it ever,” Giacomo agreed, motioning for the man to follow as he headed toward the back door. He paused, turning to Lina as he rested his hand on the threshold.

“Have the servants bust out the good wine and tell everyone to gather on the veranda. I promise you I won’t disappoint. Oh, and call for a doctor.”

Giacomo blew her a kiss, disappearing into the night with Helio at his heels.

* * *

“You know, I heard that story,” Edith said, looking off into the distance. “It wasn’t mentioned who it was, but my father did say you crossed swords with a man over the hand of his sister. You lost, so you didn’t end up marrying her.”

“I lost, but that wasn’t the reason we weren’t wed, as you can surmise,” Giacomo said. “Helio actually gave me his blessing, after I surrendered.”

“You could’ve been killed!” Edith chided. “Why didn’t Lina stop you?”

“Oh, it was all an act,” Giacomo said with a dismissive wave. “The worst injury I sustained from that duel was slipping on a wet stone and bruising my ass. And it was well worth it, in the end – the engagement party was the talk of the town for weeks. We were the most sought-after pair in Madrid for quite some time after that.”

“That must’ve been good for business.”

“Very,” Giacomo said. “It turns out it’s much easier than it sounds to live a God-fearing lifestyle if one’s exhausted at the end of each day. Well, I used to be exhausted before, mind you, but –”

“Not in a ‘God-fearing’ way,” Edith finished, raising her brow.

“Correct,” Giacomo said. “I was an honest man, living an honest life. And I can honestly say I was bored out of my skull.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well,” Giacomo said. “I tried sneaking out a few times.”

“Sir Casanova!” Edith exclaimed.

“Rocco caught up to me on all instances,” Giacomo said with a pout. “That lucky bastard didn’t have to abide by the same rules I did. It was easy enough for _him _to tell me I should behave.”

“So what happened?”

“I went to the only avenue I had for entertainment,” Giacomo said, turning the page.

* * *

“I brought you a present!”

“A what?” Lina said, lowering the monocle from her eye.

Giacomo stood in the threshold of Lina's office wearing a giddy expression. “You mentioned you needed an assistant, but you were hard-pressed to find an educated young man who would consider working under you for an apprenticeship, correct?”

“Yes …” Lina said, leaning back in her seat.

“Well, your prayers have been answered!”

Giacomo pulled a young man into the room. Giac stood next to his father, looking around with a blank expression.

“Giac?” Lina said, studying the boy. “I didn’t think he had any interest in transport.”

“Doesn't matter,” Giacomo said, giving the boy a pat on the back. “This can be an opportunity for him to learn some skills, and for you to finally have some time to step away. So, hand him a task and let’s take the carriage out, yeah?”

“That’s … what? That’s not how this works. I actually have to _teach _Giac how to do things, first.”

“He’s a sharp enough boy! Takes after me, right Giac?”

Giac’s reaction to this question was to stare into the corner.

“Yes, well, he’ll get it,” Giacomo said. “Be ready in an hour?”

“I, uh …” Lina’s eyes danced over her desk. She took a breath, raising her head. “Give me two.”

“Excellent!” Giacomo exclaimed. He gave Giac another pat on the back as he stepped out of the room. “Be a good boy now, mind your P’s and Q’s!”

* * *

Exactly two hours later, Giacomo raised his hand to the door, but paused when the sound of laughter drifted through the wood. It was the sound of Lina’s laughter.

And a man’s.

This elicited a rather unexpected reaction of Giacomo’s blood coming to a boil. Knocking forgotten, he shoved the door open.

Lina sat behind her desk, her mouth open in surprise. When Giacomo surveyed the area, he found that her only companion appeared to be the boy hunched over the small desk against the wall. His son didn’t acknowledge him as Giacomo stepped into the room.

“Who was that?”

“Who was what?” Lina asked.

“That man I heard laughing just now,” Giacomo said, eyeing the door to Lina’s private quarters.

“You mean Giac?”

“Of course I don’t mean Giac,” Giacomo said, putting his hands on his hips. “Giac doesn’t sound like that! He’s still a bloody child!”

Lina looked at him as if he'd lost some of his marbles. “Your son is fourteen.”

“No! He’s … ah …”

Giacomo lifted his hand, counting on his fingers. He mumbled to himself, before finally coming to the conclusion that he’d honestly lost track.

“Anyway, Giac doesn’t laugh,” Giacomo said. “Giac doesn’t do the whole … _talking, _thing.”

Once again, Lina was looking at him as if he had a few screws loose. “I’m … not sure what you mean.”

Giacomo rolled his eyes. “Forget it. Let’s just get on with us doing something other than work, for a change.”

Lina shot him another reproachful look before returning to her paperwork. After a few minutes of her circling lines of text, Lina set down her quill.

“I won’t be gone long,” Lina said as she followed Giacomo out the door. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask Martha to come fetch me.”

“Alright," a voice mumbled.

When Lina closed the door behind her, Giacomo was standing in the hallway, mouth agape.

“Did he just _talk?!”_

“Yes?” Lina said, now finding Giacomo’s behavior somewhat disturbing.

“Why in the world does he talk to you?”

“Why in the world _doesn’t _he talk to _you?” _Lina countered.

“I don’t know!” Giacomo exclaimed. “I’ve given him everything! A mansion to call home, an education, fine clothing, _food.”_

“Yes, children do need that last one,” Lina said. Her companion appeared to miss the sarcasm as they descended the steps.

“I’ve told him all about my exploits, you know,” Giacomo continued. “The fame, the money, the women. Nothing seems to impress him. Which doesn’t make sense, considering the boy spent half his life in an abbey. I mean at that point _anything _should impress him.”

_“Maybe _you shouldn’t be telling your child about all the women you’ve slept with,” Lina said. “Just a thought.”

“Oh, but some of them are great stories,” Giacomo said as they reached the landing. “I have the intention to write them all down, someday.”

“Why?!” Lina asked, disgusted.

“In a tasteful way!” Giacomo said in defense. “And who wouldn’t want to hear how I slept with two sisters?”

“myself, for one.”

“At once!”

The repulsed look on Lina's face shifted. “… at once?”

Giacomo beamed. “Yes! You see the novelty in that, don’t you?”

“But … _how …?” _Lina shook her head. “Please don’t elaborate – some things are better left unanswered.”

Giacomo didn't appear to be listening, already lost in thought as he stared into the distance. “Or about the time I almost married a man – I feel like most people would want to know about that.”

“What?!" Lina said. Her companion appeared exuberant as he readied himself to dive into the tale, but he deflated as Lina cut him off. "No, no! I'm not humoring this. What is it that you wanted my attention for, anyway?”

“Any bloody thing!” Giacomo said, gesticulating. “Let’s go down to the city! Watch a show! Have some wine! Look at something that isn’t boring countryside!”

Lina frowned. “I like the countryside.”

Giacomo held a finger up to her nose. “You won’t let me gamble.” One finger turned to two. “And you won’t let me take a woman to bed, so you better find something for me to do with myself before I start tearing this place to pieces.”

Nervous laughter escaped Lina’s lips; it died away when it became clear that Giacomo wasn’t joking.

“You could read –”

“If you tell me to read another book on international tax regulations, I’ll knock your brains out with it.”

Lina threw up her arms in resignation. “Alright! Alright. Uh …”

Lina snapped her fingers. “Wait here – someone will fetch you when it’s ready.”

Giacomo opened his arms in a pleading motion as he watched her go. “When _what’s _ready?”

Lina didn’t answer. Giacomo was left alone in the large entryway, where he stayed for nearly twenty minutes before Francesca emerged from the kitchen and told him to head out the back.

Beyond the gardens were fields of grass; the occasional splash of pink or yellow could be seen as the long blades swayed in a gentle breeze. This scene was common for most of the estates, only a few of which bothered to tend the land – everyone in the area was already incredibly wealthy, so there really wasn't much of a point.

Lina stood a few yards out from the gardens, holding a long, tube-like object. The stable hand, Iago, was with her – smoke billowing from his short pipe. He was holding a length of rope, and a stack of circular rocks were piled at his side.

“Alright,” Giacomo said, eyeing the pair and the odd set of items. “I’m curious.”

“It’s a hobby I picked up while visiting England on business four summers ago,” Lina said. She dug in her pocket, producing a ball of cotton. She tore off a small piece, stuffing it in her left ear. “Myself and the Venetian ambassador gave it a go, and I took a shining to it. But I don't get as much time to practice as I'd like, so I'm not terribly skilled.”

The breach of the unexpected subject caused Giacomo’s stomach to flop. He accepted the ball of cotton when Lina offered it to him, tearing off chunks and sticking them in both ears as he’s seen her do. An outstretched hand prompted him to hand what was left to Iago, who did the same.

“The Venetian ambassador, huh?” Giacomo said, raising his voice to accommodate for the cotton. “Do you also happen to be acquainted with the Venetian ambassador here in Madrid?”

“Oh yes,” Lina said, hoisting up the large tube-like object. “He was probably at the ball. Hidalgo Tocci is his name.”

“Well, ah,” Giacomo said, only partially watching the display. “That’s actually someone who I'd like to be introduced to, if possible.”

Lina sighed, and for a moment a jolt of panic coursed through Giacomo as if she'd somehow been able to decipher his intentions behind the fact. It was alarming, since in all honesty it really shouldn't matter if Lina discovered his bid to eventually return to Venice. Their arrangement was only temporary, after all.

"Hidalgo Tocci has the tendency to elicit a certain reaction from those in his acquaintance," Lina said. "I'm sure you'll have a similar reaction, and I can't take the blame for it."

The tone to her voice prompted Giacomo to grin. "Oh?"

"I've thought far too long and hard concerning the practice of impaling myself on a dinner fork due to long-winded conversations concerning Hidalgo Tocci's pack of spaniels," she said. "If you're curious, I believe the quickest avenue to death would be through the eye."

"I'll keep that in mind," Giacomo said, his gaze dancing over her face. The light-hearted expression was returned before Lina looked away.

“You should back up a little!” she shouted. Giacomo frowned, but obliged.

“Pitch!”

Iago picked up a rock, nestling it into a pouch fashioned in the middle of the rope. He began to swing it about, going faster and faster until he flicked his hand and the rock was suddenly skyward. Giacomo squinted, watching the object fall in the distance up until the world very unexpectedly exploded.

A sound like a crack of thunder knocked Giacomo to the ground. He stared, dumbfounded, as Lina lowered the large object from her shoulder.

“You’re getting better!” Iago said, although the statement sounded like he was shouting over a turbulent storm.

“Well, I hit it, so I suppose so!” Lina said. She turned to regard Giacomo with a glowing expression. The expression morphed to worry as she regarded him. “Are you alright?!”

“Is that a goddamn gun?!” Giacomo exclaimed, getting to his feet.

“It’s a fowler!” Lina said. “And don’t take the Lord’s name in vain!”

“Why the hell do you have a _gun?!”_

“I told you to watch your language!” Lina said. She flipped the gun so the muzzle pointed skyward. She balanced the object in the crook of her arm as she pulled on a glove produced from a pocket in her smock. “And I have one because firing it is enjoyable. I also think I’ll be able to take it hunting, once I’m a better shot.”

“How in the world is going deaf a valid form of entertainment?!” Giacomo asked, his ears still ringing. Lina rolled her eyes, pulling a metal rod from the muzzle.

“Do you want to try or not?”

Giacomo frowned. He watched Lina pick up the powder horn at her feet, measuring out a certain amount before pouring it down the muzzle. It was followed by a small piece of cloth, a wad of tow, another small piece of cloth, and a measured-out amount of what Lina called, ‘shot’ – which appeared to simply be a collection of small round pebbles. This was followed by another wad of tow, all of which was periodically being pressed down by the metal rod Lina had pulled from the muzzle.

“This seems like a lot of work for a very short amount of entertainment,” Giacomo said. Despite the claim, he still accepted the firearm when offered. It was lighter than what he was expecting, and he tilted the object to-and-fro.

“Obvious stuff – never point the shooty-end at yourself,” Lina said, steadying his hands. “Also don’t point it at other people. Easy enough, right?”

“I’m a good shot with a pistol,” Giacomo said, studying the metalwork atop the barrel. “I’ve got the basics down on the whole ‘don’t-shoot-yourself-in-the-face’ thing.”

“Oh, so you’re used to working with smaller equipment?”

“Well,” Giacomo said, eyeing the gun. “I wouldn’t call it _small. _I mean, compared to this thing …”

“Alright, you’re going to lift it up and steady it against your shoulder,” Lina said, the innuendo flying over her head. “Yes, just like that. Once Iago’s ready, I’ll prep the flint lock and show you where to squeeze to fire.”

“And I just point it at the rock he tosses up?”

“It’s called a clay pigeon, and yes – just be absolutely sure not to point it at anything else. And it’s going to have a bit of a kick, so be prepared for that; make sure your footing is steady.”

“Again, a lot of work for a little entertainment,” Giacomo quipped. Lina ignored him, using her feet to nudge his own into a sturdier stance. She pressed herself against his back, reaching around him to adjust his hold on the fowling piece.

“You’re drooping a bit," she said. "I need you to bring it up straight for me.”

“With you holding me like that, that won’t be a problem.”

“What?”

“Forget it – do I have it right?” Giacomo asked.

“Yes, I think so,” Lina said, watching him dubiously. “Are you ready?”

“We’ll find out.”

Lina turned to Iago. “Pitch!”

Iago went through the process of prepping the clay pigeon. Lina readied the flint lock, and guided Giacomo’s finger over the trigger.

“Just press down when you’re ready!” she said as she backed away. “And remember to stay steady!”

The pigeon flew free. Unlike when Lina was shooting, Iago made quick work of scrambling out of Giacomo’s peripheral.

_I hope I don’t regret this_

Giacomo did what he thought was aiming, and fired.

* * *

“And that, my dear,” Giacomo said, using a finger to pull back his lip. “Ish how I go thish ivory tooh.”

“Oh, my Lord,” Edith said, covering her mouth in shock.

“That’s what Lina said,” Giacomo chuckled. “After all her fuss about taking the Lord’s name in vain, too.”

* * *

Giacomo had been looking for a way to kill the time, and he certainly found it. Being on copious amounts of painkillers for a few weeks made the days drift by in a relatively easy fashion. Most of the time he would just lie in bed, perfectly content to stare into space. His thoughts drifted and morphed together like a kaleidoscope, and sometimes he even had trouble distinguishing the names and faces of those around him. He learned that a pair of firm hands were probably Rocco or Giac. The smaller ones belonged to one of two maids, although for the life of him he would never be able to distinguish which was which.

He certainly knew, though, which visitor was Lina. She was the only one who would cry, despite Giacomo’s weak attempts to comfort her. He was perfectly fine - _more _than fine, really - although the combination of the swelling and the drugs probably left him spouting gibberish like an infant instead of anything near complete sentences.

Lina would stay with him for most of the day, and as the doctor reduced his dosage, he became aware enough that she had moved a small desk into his room. She would sit in the corner, scribbling away until his designated times for eating or bathing. She would usually be the one to coax him into drinking his broth, and although the bathing was left to Rocco and another male servant, she would resume responsibility to brush out and tie back his hair. Giacomo felt like a living doll, after a fashion, although he couldn’t say he minded as much as he should.

Lina would also read to him several times a day. He thanked God she had the awareness not to select anything related to the shipping industry – that probably would’ve left him biting off his tongue to choke on the blood.

She had a worn copy of Robinson Crusoe, reading it in such a practiced manner that he was certain she had done so many times before. Lina even changed her voice for different characters, and Giacomo could practically picture two boys with unruly brown hair huddled together as their older sister recounted them with tales of shipwrecks and cannibals.

They had finished Robinson Crusoe, and were halfway through Gulliver’s Travels, when Giacomo found himself able to make coherent speech.

“This,” he said. The noise gave Lina so much of a start, she practically fell out of her chair. Giacomo waited for her to right herself again before continuing. He lifted his arm to do a loopy wave over his face.

“Not your fault.”

This had the opposite of the desired effect. Lina started crying again, and it appeared that she'd caught his inability to form coherent speech. But now that he had more of his whits about him, Giacomo was able to beckon her over. The bed was rather large, and so getting himself into a sitting position faired to be a greater challenge than making room. But when he was settled, Lina was able to lean her head on his shoulder as she sobbed. He absently patted her hair, hushing her the best he could.

After some time, Lina fell silent, and he was surprised to see she’d fallen asleep where she lay – her body halfway propped against him, her head resting just under his collarbone. Whether her current state was due to her fussing over his wellbeing, or if she generally worked herself to exhaustion, Giacomo couldn’t tell. But he was hard-pressed to wake her, and motioned Rocco to keep silent when he checked in on them sometime later. Giacomo couldn’t guess what he said, but Rocco must’ve somehow been able to convince the rest of the staff to leave them be. He was sure that Francesca, at the very least, would brew up a storm over the indecency.

Oh, if only Francesca had been aware of the things Giacomo usually got up to with a woman in his bed. With _several _women in his bed. Out of all the things he’d done in the past, this was the most innocent by a long run. He still became aroused – which was a rather natural reaction, considering many circumstances – but he behaved. Well, he did untie the front of her smock by a few grommets, but he stopped himself short of getting to the “good bits” when his conscious kicked in. He also gently tugged her hair out of its braid, although he reasoned with himself that it was to make her more comfortable. In reality, he found that he’d missed the simple pleasure of running his hands through a woman’s hair.

It was hard to tell the time, due to the thick curtains over the widows, but Giacomo surmised that they were there for the remainder of the night and into mid-morning of the next day. He drifted in and out of consciousness several times himself, during this point. Periodically, he would awake to find he had drifted more into a laying position, Lina remaining by his side.

By the morning, Lina had wrapped herself in a cocoon of covers; the only part of her still touching Giacomo being her forehead against his chest. He leaned forward to take in the smell of her hair, and wasn’t surprised to find it smelled like oiled leather. When he ran his fingers through it, Lina let out a content hum.

Giacomo pulled away and moved to the far side of the bed as quickly as he could without waking her. Nearly every instinct in his head was screaming at him to rip the covers away and press himself against Lina, enveloping her soft pink lips in his. He wanted to show her – the best way he was able – that he didn’t blame her for what happened, that he was grateful for her looking after him, that he –

Black eyes sparkling, the woman flashed him a smile painted in bright red.

_Henriette._

Giacomo groaned, covering his eyes with his hands.

_Do I have permission? Am I allowed?_

_‘You will forget me.’_

“Giacomo?”

Giacomo sat up with a start. He positioned the covers over his lap to hide his body’s still lingering reaction from the soft sound that had escaped Lina’s lips. The maker of said sound was now regarding him with a groggy expression.

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Well, can’t say for sure,” Giacomo said. “But since I also drifted off and you’re still here, then I’m going to hazard a guess that the answer is yes.”

“Oh,” Lina said. She stood, averting her gaze as she smoothed out her dress. She noticed a few of the laces at the top of her dress were loose, and she turned her back to him as it was adjusted.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I apologize for the indecency.”

“You _do _recall who you’re talking to?” Giacomo asked, raising a brow.

“Even so,” Lina said, turning back to him. “It was rude of me to use your bed without asking.”

“You don’t have to ask.”

The words were out of his mouth before he knew what was happening. Lina broke their gaze, a flush rising up her cheeks.

“I-I mean, it’s your estate,” Giacomo corrected. “You could sleep in the chimney or between the floorboards if you bloody well pleased.”

The tension in his shoulders relaxed as Lina smiled. “Well, now that you’re really awake,” she said, looking to change the subject. Lina ducked her head, tucking the hair behind her ear in a way that for some reason Giacomo now found entrancing. “I want to formally apologize. It was completely my fault – I didn’t explain how to hold the fowler properly, and so when it kicked back on your face –”

“How bad is it?” Giacomo asked. He gingerly touched his cheek, but found there was only slight tenderness on the upper right side of his mouth.

“Um, not too bad, luckily,” Lina said. “The doctor said the stock hit your face in just the right way to knock one tooth clean out, and that was it. He already put in the new one. He said it will feel a little different, but with proper care you won’t notice it too much.”

“Well, I suppose there are worse things that could’ve happened,” Giacomo said, hitting her with a lop-sided smirk. A thought struck him, and the smile vanished.

“Iago is still with us, isn’t he?”

With this, Lina chuckled. “The doctor said you probably wouldn’t recall much while you were on the heavier sedatives. Iago has helped Rocco to bathe you a few times, and he was also the one who carried you all the way back to the house while I went and fetched the doctor.”

“I’ll have to give him my thanks.”

“Yes.”

Silence fell between them. As if on cue, they both began to speak. Neither wanted to go before the other, but Lina was the more stubborn of the pair, so Giacomo took the lead.

“I want you to know that I don’t blame you for this, not one bit,” he said. Lina looked ready to protest when he silenced her with a wave. “I forgive you wholeheartedly, and I’m sure you’ve already paid it all back ten times over with the treatment and the free shows.”

“Free shows?”

“Robinson Crusoe,” Giacomo said, brightening. Lina turned a darker shade of red.

“I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“Oh, it’s up here,” Giacomo said, tapping his temple. “And I can assure you it’s going to stay there until the day I die.”

“Please don’t tell anyone that!” Lina said. “I used to read it that way for Elia and Helio, and so I just naturally fell back into doing the voices.”

“I think your Robinson Crusoe is very erotic,” Giacomo said, wiggling his brows. “There’s a grittiness to his voice that just screams rugged adventurer.”

“Don’t poke fun.”

“It’s the truth!” Giacomo exclaimed. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sheepish look overtaking his companion’s face.

"I was just ..." Lina said, trailing off. "... trying to keep you stimulated."

"Oh, you stimulate me alright."

Lina frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

Giacomo cleared his throat and looked away. He had a much easier time actually contemplating the words coming from his mouth when he couldn't regard the fullness of Lina's lips or the hair falling in thick waves over her shoulders.

"Thank you," he said. "You didn't have to go to such lengths to keep me entertained."

Lina made a nervous sound. "I felt a little obligated, considering I was at least partially at fault for you being bedridden."

"Still," Giacomo said, meeting her gaze. "I enjoyed every moment of it – it's a pity I no longer have an excuse for you to dote on me so."

Giacomo immediately regretted the statement as a panicked expression fell over Lina's face. He was considering making an apology when she suddenly spoke.

“I have some news for you,” Lina squeaked, keeping her eyes lowered.

Giacomo was quick to pick up on the blatant attempt to change the subject.

"You do?"

"Yes," Lina said. “I was telling Rocco about what happened, and the subject of the Venetian ambassador came up.”

The smile slowly ebbed from Giacomo’s face.

“I wrote him a letter, and I may have … _exaggerated, _the extent of your injuries,” Lina said. She finally returned to meeting his gaze as she held up her thumb and pointer finger. “Just a little.”

Giacomo frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I said there was the _possibility _of you having an infection that would slowly kill you within the year,” she said, hitting him with a shamefaced smile.

“Wait,” Giacomo said, alarmed. “That’s not true, is it?”

“No! No,” Lina quickly corrected. “I just … wanted to make sure he knew how much it would mean for you to be able to go back to Venice before you … um, _expire.”_

Giacomo’s jaw dropped. “You _liar!”_

“I know!” Lina squeaked, hiding her face in her hands.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“It’s not funny!” Lina said, distraught.

“But did it work?” Giacomo asked, leaning forward. “Am I allowed back into Venice?”

Lina hit him with a sunny expression. Giacomo’s face broke into a smile.

“Really?” he asked. Lina nodded.

Giacomo laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, God! Ah, language – sorry. But that's ... that's amazing! Ah, I can’t believe it! Lina, I love you!”

He could see her posture grow rigid out of the corner of his eye. His thoughts were so busy tumbling over themselves, it took him a few seconds to process what had happened.

“Oh,” Giacomo said, meeting her gaze. Lina was watching him intently, her lips slightly parted. Giacomo was good at reading people, and this message was coming through loud and clear.

“I love you, Lina.”

Lina took a shuddering breath. She regarded him with a watery smile.

“I ... love you, as well.”

“Ever since the engagement party,” Giacomo said, clinging to the moment. “When you walked into the kitchen and told me that you’d noticed I had gone. I’ve always been the one doing the chasing, but you came after me. You _wanted _me.”

“Of course,” Lina said, her smile widening. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Not like that,” Giacomo said. He swung his legs off the bed, shakily getting to his feet. “It’s alright,” he added as Lina moved forward. His gait was more of a shuffle, but he eventually made it to stand before her. He reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know when it was,” Lina whispered. “But all I knew is that when you were hurt, my heart felt like it had shattered.”

Giacomo cupped Lina’s cheeks, bringing his lips to hers. The kiss was slow and gentle – in part due to his injury, and conversely because Giacomo felt that coming on too strongly would spook Lina as if she were a wild doe.

Giacomo reluctantly pulled himself out of the kiss. He leaned his forehead against Lina’s, breathing heavily. “I should buy you a ring.”

Lina’s bashful smile faded. “Oh, we didn’t do that before, did we? I wonder why no one asked?”

“Me being penniless was sort of part of the mystique, wasn’t it?” Giacomo mused.

Lina chuckled. “They probably just think you’re marrying me for my money.” Her expression grew thoughtful. _“Are _you just marrying me for my money?”

“Not _only _for the money.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Giacomo smiled, kissing her again.

* * *

“You’re wondering what I did to ruin everything.”

Edith was intently studying her plain slippers. After a moment, she shook her head. “I just don’t understand. You _loved _her.”

“I loved many women,” Giacomo said.

“But you were such a good match!”

“I was a good match with Bellino, as well.”

Understanding dawned on Edith’s face. She stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. “Oh, no. Sir, please don’t tell me this was because of Henriette.”

Giacomo offered her a sad smile as his answer.

“But she was married!” Edith shouted, as if the argument would retroactively change the course of history. “She had children! It was over between you two!”

“Both you and I know that isn’t true.”

Giacomo stood, making his way to the window. “Speaking of which, I’m still waiting for that letter from Henriette’s household. Have you seen it?”

Edith’s eyes went uncharacteristically wide for a moment before she looked away. She shook her head.

“Ah, if you say so,” Giacomo said, disappointed. “I saw a horse the other day, and was hoping the rider had delivered it.”

Edith kept her eyes locked on the far corner of the room. Her hands were folded in her lap, her knuckles turning white as she clasped the material.

“So,” Giacomo said, turning from the window. “The abridged version of my story with Lina is that the engagement was called off and it’s been decades since our last meeting. I’ve written most of it down, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

“Will it make me angry with you?”

“Terribly.”

Edith inhaled sharply through her nose. She held the breath, her shoulders slumping when she finally exhaled. “I need to hear it.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes,” Edith said. She raised her eyes to hold his gaze. “I do.”

The bittersweet smile had returned. Giacomo ambled toward the desk, running his fingers over his work in an almost reluctant manner.

* * *

“You should go to Venice!”

“You think?” Giacomo said, adjusting his grip on the reins. His white horse trotted along at an easy pace, Lina’s brown and tan speckled mare at its side. They had just crested the hill along one of the small trails behind the estate, fields of grass only broken up by the occasional manor dotting the distance.

“Father Bragadin is like a … well, _father _to you, isn’t he?”

“Well,” Giacomo said. “Yes.”

“And if you return,” Lina continued. “You can properly claim your title as the inheritor of his estate. You’d be _actual _nobility, and no more of this ‘chevalier de Seingalt’ absurdity.”

“Oi! I’m right proud of coming up with that, thank you!”

“We’d be able to use that inheritance for more investments,” Lina said, a faraway look in her eyes. “Perhaps even look into some logging options in Italy.”

“Excuse me,” Giacomo said, waiting for Lina’s attention to return. “But are you only marrying me for my money?”

“Not _just _the money.”

Giacomo’s smile widened. He urged his horse to a stop, swinging from the saddle.

“What are you doing?” Lina asked, watching him dismount.

“Not just me,” Giacomo said. He circled around to the side of her horse before holding up his hand. _“We’re _taking a stroll, since I can’t kiss you otherwise.”

Lina’s cheeks turned a bright pink. She had trouble holding her gaze as she fiddled with the reins. “That’s very bold of you to say.”

“Well, you know me.”

Lina smiled. She accepted Giacomo’s assistance dismounting. The two horses were left to graze as they walked arm-in-arm through the swaying grass.

“I would like to meet him, as well,” Lina said. “Father Bragadin sounds like a kind man, and having your family here for the wedding will be important.”

_Wedding._

Giacomo’s stomach dropped like a stone. All he could picture was a veil being lifted to reveal a pair of dark eyes and red lips. The hands lifting the veil weren’t his own, but belonged to a man who married the woman he loved out of spite.

“… open to having him stay indefinitely. The good Lord knows we have more than enough room.”

“What?” Giacomo said, blinking. “I’m sorry, I … I was distracted.”

“Oh, it’s nothing pressing,” Lina said. “I was merely saying that if your father would like to stay with us after the wedding, he will be more than welcome to do so. Having Giac around has helped tremendously, but I do admit I miss the turbulent nature of a busy household.”

“Hold on a tick,” Giacomo said, frowning. “Did you just say ‘turbulent nature?’ Who in the world would want their home to be something like that?”

“Perhaps that isn’t the right word,” Lina said, smiling as a memory surfaced. “It was hard for us, after my father passed. But as time went on, and we began to heal, my brothers and I fell into what I like to think of as a comfortable state of chaos. Everyone was growing and exploring and learning, and I took pride in putting all of myself into turning our investments into the company we have now. I did it all for them; for my brothers. Securing their future so that they could run and play and get into trouble without a care in the world meant everything to me.”

Giacomo regarded her fondly. “You’re a good older sister.”

“You think?” Lina asked. “I coddled them, if what Francesca had to say was true.”

Giacomo thought back to the day Lina had presented the contract for their engagement. He could perfectly recall the look on her face when he suggested leaning on him for support.

_‘I can take care of them on my own.’_

“You love them,” Giacomo said, stroking the back of her hand. “Elia more than Helio, I’d imagine, considering the scar running down your youngest brother’s face.”

“That,” Lina said, her voice hardening, “was his own fault for challenging me.”

“It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

“Of course it was!” Lina said, all signs of authority melting away. “Oh, I cried at his bedside for days.”

“Sounds about right,” Giacomo said. “It seems like you have a pattern for injuring the men you love. I can only image what scars poor Elia is carrying around.”

“Elia is perfectly fine, thank you.”

“For now.”

“Don’t be wicked!” Lina said, swatting his arm as Giacomo laughed.

“Oh, but I’m so good at that.” Giacomo shifted to put himself before her. He tucked back the hairs that had blown loose before enveloping her in a kiss. The intervals between them pulling apart were becoming longer, each time, and Giacomo was beginning to doubt his ability to control himself. It helped that a wedding date had been set, so he at least had a slowly approaching target to keep track of, although he now worried that their first night together may be over before it even began considering the level of pent-up tension.

“Make love to me,” Giacomo said, pulling away. He kept his eyes closed, taking in the smell of oiled leather and the feel of soft skin.

“Right here?” Lina said. “In the _grass?”_

“It’s more comfortable than you think,” Giacomo said, leaning down to plant a kiss on her neck.

“Not only would God be watching,” Lina said, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “But so would everyone else.”

“Just the horses,” Giacomo said, opening his eyes. “And I’m sure they don’t mind. In fact, they’d probably enjoy it.”

“You are a ridiculous man.”

“I’m _your _ridiculous man.”

“Yes,” Lina said, beaming. “You are.”

* * *

Despite the letters affirming the claim, Giacomo was still relieved when the doors to the Bragadin estate opened up and the elderly Father Bragadin was there to greet him. The skyline of his beloved home had certainly taken Giacomo’s breath away, but it was this sight that warmed any of the damp that had sunk into his bones from the long voyage.

“My boy, my boy,” Bragadin said, squeezing the air from his lungs. “Welcome home, dear Giacomo.”

* * *

There was more than a little grumbling from the court, but at the end of the day, everything was in order. Giacomo Casanova, formerly the ‘chevalier de Seingalt,’ was now Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin. Considering how well known the Casanova name had become over the years, Giacomo was hard pressed to change it entirely. It was still up in the air whether his name would be changing yet again upon his marriage into the Jilani family, but that was a bridge he figured could be crossed when he’d get there.

His reception in Venice was mixed, which came to no surprise. There were some members of the court who would go so far as to leave the room upon his entry, but most members – especially the younger individuals – gravitated to him like moths to a flame. Giacomo was infamous, good looking, and now incredibly, _incredibly, _rich – which led to him having no shortage of invitations to Venice’s thrumming social scene.

Instead of Rocco, who had taken over the duties of the Jilani’s head butler upon the man’s retirement some weeks ago, Giacomo had been accompanied by a Ruiz de Alcado, one of the more talented representatives of the Jilani Company. Ruiz was pleasant enough, but it was clear that he had a particular goal in mind while traveling to Venice – mainly, scoping out various prospective customers and purchasing opportunities.

Giacomo pointed Ruiz toward as many contacts as he could, which turned out to be more than satisfactory considering hardly hide nor hair of the man was seen during most of the visit. Every now and then he’d catch the tail end of a conversation between Ruiz and Bragadin when coming down for breakfast, but otherwise Giacomo was left mostly to his own devices.

It had likely gone without saying that Giacomo had been expected to spend his days with Ruiz; strengthening relations with the local tradesmen and surveying available tracts of land. But old habits die hard, and if Giacomo was going to _truly _experience the vitality of his old stomping ground, then he was going all out.

Well, not _entirely. _The alcohol and cigars returned in copious amounts, but not so much that Giacomo didn’t have the good sense to slip a hefty amount of coin into a server’s pocket to ensure that not only would he make it back to the Bragadin estate at the end of the night, but that he would do so alone.

There was flirting – there was _always _flirting – but nothing nearly as racy as Giacomo had done in the past. He soon gained a rather unusual, albeit appreciated, reputation among the court for using his charm to direct affections from himself onto those who had put in the effort to gain Giacomo’s good graces. A part of Giacomo was left screaming and writhing every time he pawned off a woman with an impressive pair or breasts or a tantalizing set of lips off onto another man, but that voice was easy enough to push away. When he was sober, anyway. The alcohol made it much more difficult, but by then the servant he had hired at the beginning of the night would be dumping him into a hired stagecoach to take him home.

Although, home was never the first stop.

Giacomo always demanded for the coach driver to make a detour. He would promise it would be quick, and the drivers relented either from the pleading nature of his voice or the bag of coins jingled out the window. And every night, the detour would be the same.

The Grimani estate was as cold, plain, and sterile as Giacomo always imaged. Or, perhaps that was just how he saw it. The building was actually quite impressive, with its gleaming white walls and sweeping archways and columns brandishing the front entrance. But from where he stood, grasping the metal gate surrounding the manor, it looked like a prison.

Giacomo never did more than stand and stare, hoping to catch a silhouette or a flutter of the curtains. But the windows always remained dark, and still. There was never any light – never any indication that a woman would come bounding down the front steps, her skirt bunched up in one hand as she breathlessly crossed the length of the courtyard to greet him. There was never a hint that a pair of dark eyes filled to the brim with love and relief would turn up in a smile as a pale hand reached through the bars to brush his cheek.

After eleven nights of Giacomo staring up at the remote estate that he was certain could feel like a house but could never feel like a _home, _he gave up. On the twelfth night, the command to stop at the Grimani household stilled on his tongue, and he only stared out the dark window as the carriage took him back to the Bragadin manor; back to where he belonged.

Or, more accurately, the place he called home at the moment. Where he _belonged _was a house that was simple by the standards of the Spanish court, but exuded a cozy feeling of comfort and warmth. He belonged in the presence of a smile that lit up his heart, and a laugh he couldn’t help but to mirror. He belonged in a place with fields of grass stretching to the horizon, and his arm locked with the woman who had gone looking for him.

Venice was no longer his home.

The revelation was painful, and yet he laughed. The driver probably thought he had gone mad when Giacomo stumbled into the street laughing his ass of, but he paid him no mind. Giacomo laughed himself all the way to bed, earning a questioning look from Ruiz when the man popped his head into the hallway to see what the fuss was about. But Giacomo was in his own world, one that was twisting and turning into something he couldn’t describe. What he _could _say was that this new world was neither good, or was it bad.

But that was life, wasn’t it?

And it was an admission Giacomo was rather content in accepting as his last day in Venice rapidly approached. It was on this last day, four nights after Giacomo stopped pausing by the Grimani estate, that he received a letter addressed to him in an unmarked envelope.

Giacomo didn’t have to open it to know exactly who it was from.

* * *

The place was certainly an office, but not Grimani’s.

A lawyer’s, perhaps, considering the cozy green chairs nestled next to the fire – a perfect place to assure your clients that the case was as good as won, or perhaps to offer them a calming atmosphere when urging them to take a plea deal.

A large white sheet was hiding what he presumed to be an impressive chair behind a wide desk at the other end of the room. Giacomo surmised that the armchairs had likely been the same – the covers having been set away just prior to his arrival. It would be awkward to utilize the furniture, otherwise, and it was clear that his host intended to be as hospitable as possible considering the circumstances. This is where he found them, in fact, as he turned the small key and stepped into the room. There was no wood in the fireplace – they wouldn’t dare to draw the attention – but his host had been staring into the empty space as if entranced.

“Giac.”

The hand that had been lifted to close the door behind him stilled. Giacomo drunk in the sound of her voice, and the sparkle to her eyes as she turned to him.

“Henriette.”

“Oh, look at you!” Henriette said, gathering her skirts as she stood. “You’re _tan! _Do they have you loading the cargo on all those boats yourself?”

“Just the little boxes,” Giacomo said, unable to keep a goofy smile from taking over his face.

Henriette placed her hands on her hips, her smile turning coy. “Giacomo Casanova, putting in a hard day’s work; we may just be in the end of times.”

“I’d go to church to repent,” Giacomo said, “but the last time that happened, I nearly killed a man. I _did _gain a father out of it, though.”

“Maybe if you go to an abbey, you’ll gain a mother.”

“No luck – I just came away with a son.”

The entirety of Henriette’s small frame shook as she threw her head back in laughter. The light coming in through the thin white curtains suddenly seemed brighter, and despite there being no wood in the fireplace, the room enveloped him like a warm blanket.

“Oh, that confused little duck,” Henriette said, wiping a tear from her eye. “Growing up in an abbey and then finding his way to _Giacomo Casanova. _I’m sure the poor thing’s head’s still spinning.”

“He’s a … _unique, _lad,” Giacomo said.

“Oh?” Henriette said. Giacomo couldn’t help but to linger on the touch of red gracing the tip of her nose and the apples of her cheeks.

“How old is he, your son?”

“Ah,” Giacomo said, collecting his thoughts. “Giac’s fourteen now. Oh, wait – fifteen. Fifteen, yes.”

“They named him Giac?” Henriette asked, raising her brows. “But your name’s Giac.”

Giacomo’s face lit up. “That’s what I said! I told Rocco on day one how terribly confusing it would be! I suggested giving him a new name, but he had none of it.”

“Oh dear,” Henriette said, tilting her head. “How terribly inconvenient for you that Rocco is a reasonable man. How is he, by the way?”

“Oh, you know him.” Giacomo waved over his shoulder. “Ditched me the first chance he could get. He works directly for the estate, now, which is shorter hours and better pay; the nerve of some people.”

“Do you mean the Jilani estate?”

Giacomo’s smile wavered. “Yeah. Ah, yes. He’s … he’s the head butler.”

“Good for Rocco! You didn’t deserve him.” Henriette accentuated the last statement with a wink. She turned, indicating the chairs. “This is the best hospitality I can offer, I’m afraid. I believe you have an idea of why I couldn’t invite you to my home.”

The sunny expression flickered for a moment, but Giacomo quickly recovered. He closed the door at his back with a soft click before approaching the chairs.

“Rocco isn’t the only one who’s been busy, from what I hear,” Henriette said, watching him with a pleasant expression. “Your engagement is all anyone seems to talk about.”

“Oh?”

“They mostly speculate on how you pulled it off,” Henriette said, a devious glint to her eyes. “But if anyone could, it would be you, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” Giacomo said. “Yes, that’s ah … that’s what I do, isn’t it?”

“I’ve heard a bit about her, you know – prior to your engagement, even.”

A sensation like a cold drop of water ran down Giacomo’s spine.

“I hear she’s lovely,” Henriette said. Some of the exuberance had drained from her voice, but her smile was still genuine. “And sharp as a tack. That’s good – you need that. Paris was an indicator of what happens when you’re left to your own devices.”

A weak chuckle escaped Giacomo’s lips. “You told me once that I could lose money in a gold mine.”

“And was I wrong?”

“Not only would I lose money,” Giacomo said, brightening. “I’d come out the other side as bare and toothless as the day I was born.”

“Toothless?”

“These here technically belong to a Baron,” Giacomo said, pulling his lips back. “Might not be worth as much, though, since it’s no longer a full set.”

Henriette leaned forward, squinting. “What do you mean? They look fine.”

“Ivory,” Giacomo said, pulling back his lips with one hand while pointing with the other. “Thsee?”

“I don’t see,” Henriette said, sitting back. “But I suppose that means it must be rather expensive, isn’t it?”

“No doubt. I do wish it stood out a little more, since retelling the story is less fun when I’ve got nothing impressive to show for it.”

“Only you would think that way, Giac!” Henriette said, laughing. Her merriment died down, and she mirrored Giacomo’s content expression. “Well? Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Giacomo grinned, launching into his well-practiced recount of events. “I was bored; as one can imagine when one’s freedoms to gamble and fraternize among members of the opposite sex has been restricted.”

Henriette rolled her eyes. “That’s like death for you, isn’t it?”

“Worse – My hands ran along the pages of tax codes instead of smooth skin. My eyes laid upon fat men with their golden lapels instead of women and their unlaced blouses. My ears were filled with the sound of coins being weighed on scales instead of my name being called during fits of ecstasy. If that’s death, then I can only hope I’ll be blessed enough to live forever.”

“You’re much more of a fool than I remember.”

Giacomo winked. “Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?”

Henriette waved at him to continue.

“So I told Lina she better do something to entertain me before I jump off a cliff. I had been _hoping _for an activity of the more … _carnal _variety. But then she takes me out to the middle of a bloody field holding a gun that’s about as tall as she is.”

Henriette let out a barking laugh. “Of course she would!”

A squeezing sensation in his chest forced the air out of Giacomo’s lungs. He watched as Henriette’s innocent expression shifted to one of concern.

“Giac, what is it?”

“Nothing,” he said, quickly. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought to lift them in a smile. “The thing, it was … like thunder. I fell right on my ass. And then she … Lina … ah, Verona. She said I could …”

“Giac?” Henriette leaned forward. “Are you alright?”

A nervous laugh escaped his lips. “She read me Robinson Crusoe, and I bought her a ring.”

Henriette reached out to clasp his arm, thought better of it, and pulled away.

“What am I doing here, Henriette?”

Henriette sighed, a shadow falling over her features. She held Giacomo’s gaze as if hoping he would come to the conclusion on his own. When there was no indication he would speak, she reluctantly stepped up.

“You came to my home.”

Giacomo’s eyes grew wide. “You saw me?”

“Every night,” Henriette said. She dropped her gaze, shaking her head. “I told you to forget me, Giac.”

“I can’t.” Giacomo leaned forward, their knees nearly brushing as he regarded her with a pleading expression. “This place, this city … all I can do is think of you.”

“Then leave, Giac,” Henriette said. “If that will make the pain go away; if that will make you truly forget, then leave, and don’t return.”

Giacomo leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. “For a short time, I thought I had forgotten. I thought I had pushed everything I felt for you away and stuffed it into a little box in the back of my heart. But … Henriette, I can’t. I’m a man who can do just about anything, but I can’t do what you’re asking.”

“You have to,” Henriette said, her voice growing sharp. “Please, Giac. I can’t … I can’t bear thinking that you’re just out there … _suffering _every moment we’re apart.”

“Like how I’ve felt for the past eight years?” Giacomo countered. “You don’t want to feel exactly how I’ve felt every day since the moment Grimani stole you away from me? You don't want to experience thinking about you being locked away in some stuffy room all alone with a broken heart?”

Henriette broke their gaze again, regarding her hands wringing together in her lap. “You don’t understand, Giac.”

“No, I don’t,” Giacomo said, anger seeping into his voice. “I don’t understand, because I thought you loved me!”

Henriette squeezed her eyes shut as she took a shuddering breath. “Don’t make me say it, Giac.”

“Say what?” Giacomo said. “Say that you forgot all about me the moment I left Venice, and that I’ve been clinging to something hopeless for all these years?”

Henriette shook her head. “That’s not it, Giac. It isn’t.”

“Then what is it?” Giacomo said, voice rising. “Am I a joke? Is that it? Did it stop being funny when you learned that I was trying everything I could to find my way back to you?!”

“That’s not what I wanted!” Henriette said, a tear tracking down her cheek. “I told you that! I need you to forget me; I need you to move on!”

“And what if I don’t want to?” Giacomo said, his breathing ragged. “What if I want to just keep chasing you until the day I die?”

“Giac, don’t,” Henriette said, more tears falling. “Please, don’t.”

“Tell me, Henriette,” Giacomo said, voice breaking. “Tell me the truth; that’s all I ask of you.”

Henriette closed her eyes again. She sat, still as stone, for what felt like an eternity before finally raising her head to regard him with a heartbreaking expression.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I haven’t stopped, and I’m afraid I never will.”

Giacomo’s shoulders shook in a sob. He quickly fought to compose himself, running his hand over his face as his eyes danced over the room. He wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve before regarding Henriette with a hopeful expression.

“I’m a Bragadin, now, Henriette. For _certain, _this time. I can move the money and take you away – you and your children. I can take you _anywhere _in the world, Henriette, as long as you’re with me.”

Henriette made a choking sound which was probably meant to be a laugh. “What about your life? What about your fiancée; your son?”

Giacomo felt like he was drowning. He reached out for the one thing he thought might be able to save him – to allow him to see the light again above the waves. Trembling fingers ran across Henriette’s cheek. She enveloped his hand in hers, leaning her face into his palm.

“I can’t say goodbye to you again, Henriette,” Giacomo whispered. “It’ll be the death of me if I do – I know it.”

Henriette’s hand began to shake. Giacomo was quick to close the distance, wrapping her in his arms. He held onto to her like a man clinging to a piece of driftwood at sea. Giacomo was drowning, and there was only one way he could breathe air again.

He tasted the salt of her tears as their lips met. He had expected some resistance, but Henriette melted into him, clinging to the lapels of his jacket as if she’d float into the nether without it.

As the kiss continued, Giacomo’s hands greedily pulled at the strings of her red bodice, the material falling open to reveal the plain smock underneath. He gave in to Henriette’s effort to relieve him of his jacket, helping her guide it off his shoulders before flinging it aside.

Giacomo brought his mouth to the nape of Henriette’s pale neck, sucking the flesh as his hand pulled at the small ribbons holding her hair in place. She let out a soft gasp, using her hand to guide his mouth back to –

* * *

“Stop.”

Giacomo raised his eyes from the page. Edith was staring out the window, her lip quivering.

The old man let out a sigh as he sat back in his seat. “I didn’t recount much past that point, anyway,” he said. “The details of the rest of that meeting will forever remain between only Henriette and I, as it should.”

Giacomo thought he was long past feeling such things, but when Edith looked back to him – emoting not just anger, but _disappointment – _he felt an unsteady twang in his heart.

“How _could you?” _Edith asked.

Giacomo knew there was no point in answering – he didn’t have one to give, at any rate. He was suddenly struck by a vision of a woman in blue; strands of hair flowing loose around her face while her large brown eyes provided a crystal-clear view of her heart breaking to pieces.

_‘I’m such a fool.’_

“Both of you!” Edith exclaimed, rising to her feet. “You were engaged! She was _married! _I know that you loved her … But, oh. I can’t believe she would do that! That you would do that! You’re a fool, Sir Casanova! And so was Henriette! She should never have done something so … so _stupid _as to arrange a meeting with you! She should’ve known better!”

“Now you watch your tongue,” Giacomo said, his voice hardening.

“I’m … I’m sorry,” Edith said, frazzled. “I know I shouldn’t speak ill of her memory, but, oh … it’s just terrible!”

“Her memory?”

Edith grew still. A panicked look flashed behind her eyes; she tried to hide it, but Giacomo was on his feet and across the room in an instant.

“What do mean?” he said, grasping her shoulders. “What do you mean by that?!”

“I … I mean …”

Boney fingers bore into Edith’s flesh.

“She’s passed, Sir!” Edith blurted. “There was a letter, and it said she passed some seven months ago.”

Giacomo released Edith as if she were a hot coal. He stumbled, catching himself on the desk.

Edith let out a low whimper as she hugged herself. “I’m … sorry, Sir, I–”

“The letter,” Giacomo said, holding out his hand. “Give it here – I need to see it for myself.”

Edith shifted. “I … I don’t think that would be a good idea, Sir.”

“And why not?” Giacomo snapped, eyes wild. “Are you lying to me, girl? Is this all some sort of trick to punish me for my past transgressions?!”

“No!” Edith said. She clutched the material of her dress at the nape of her neck, her lip twitching as she waffled.

“Spit it out, girl!” Giacomo roared.

“She had no idea!” Edith cried. “The woman who wrote back was Henriette’s daughter. She had no idea who you were – she said Henriette had never mentioned you before. I didn't ... I didn't think you would want to know that she–”

"That she had moved on," Giacomo said, finishing Edith's thought. His outstretched hand began to shake. He withdrew it, his eyes darting about the room.

“Leave me.”

Edith shot him a pitying look before turning about. She paused as she was about to cross the threshold – rummaging for something in the front pocket of her apron. A folded, wrinkled piece of paper was eventually produced. Edith ran her fingers over the crumpled material and regarded it solemnly for a moment before placing it on the windowsill.

* * *

For the first time ever, Giacomo wasn’t in his quarters when Edith came calling on him. Under the guise of doing some dusting in the corridor, she spent the better part of her day waiting for him to return.

But it never happened.

One day turned to two, and by the third, Edith was frazzled enough to risk the housekeeper’s scorn by asking directly.

The answer she received was a scoff and a command to sweep the kitchen. Edith was practically in tears as she did so, and she wasn’t quick enough to hide it when a fellow scullery maid stepped in. The other young woman, Rebecca, didn’t speak to Edith without warrant – a certain reputation floated about the young maid who made frequent visits to the librarian’s quarters, and it was uncouth to be seen in such company.

But Rebecca shot Edith a few sideways glances as she scrubbed the plates, and made an excuse to fetch a towel from the side of the room where Edith was glumly coaxing the conglomerate of soot and food scraps into a pile.

“The stableboy told me he took a horse, two nights back,” Rebecca said. She felt the need to elaborate when Edith proceeded to stare at her as if she were a cooking pot come to life.

“The librarian, I mean. He took one of the master’s horses and went down the main road. Town isn’t too far from here, so I’m sure he made it without misfortune.”

Edith was struck dumb, her mind only deciding that she should thank Rebecca long after the other woman was gone. Putting a new-found vigor into her task, she hurried up to finish in time to lend Rebecca a helping hand with the laundering.

* * *

The book was wide open on Giacomo’s cluttered desk, turned to the exact page where he’d left off. Whether it had been on purpose, or because whatever compelled Giacomo to leave had taken precedence, Edith couldn’t say. But she felt that the massive book was waiting for her when she arrived, just as Giacomo used to. It wasn’t the same – it could never _be _the same – but there was something deep inside her she couldn’t ignore.

Edith needed to know, and she had a gut feeling that Giacomo wanted her to, as well, or else he surely would’ve stored the book away. That was the justification, anyway, as Edith went about tending the fireplace and lighting the wayward candles about the room.

After a few moments of tittering, since the action exuded a certain level of invasion of privacy, Edith took a seat behind the grand mahogany desk. Her hands reached out to run over the wrinkled, yellow paper and the crude twine used to bind the book together. She had never noticed before, but the paper itself wasn’t of very high quality. It was rough, and revealed itself to be uneven in the areas where ink sank through. She wondered if it ever bothered Giacomo – spending months running his hands over such a tawdry material when his fingers held the echo of things much finer.

It took a moment of searching, considering the meticulous handwriting was rather small, but she eventually found where the story had left off.

To her surprise, Giacomo had lied to her. He had stated that his recount of events with Henriette upon their meeting in Venice was one he didn’t pen in totality. Yet, there was far more text she could spot from a glance where the name “Henriette” leapt from the page.

A deep breath was inhaled, exhaled, and Edith slowly moved her fingers over the paper.

“I kissed her pale neck,” Edith read, eyes tracking across the page. “Her hair was tied up in ribbons, and it flowed through my hands like silk as I pulled the adornments away. Henriette made a sound of surprise and delight, guiding my face back to hers. Our lips met once again, and …”

* * *

“And then what?”

“What?”

Giacomo’s sole focus had been on tearing away the seemingly endless number of ties and buttons securing Henriette’s skirts. He looked up at her, unable to decipher what she was searching for behind her dark gaze.

“What will come after this, Giac?”

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Giacomo said, once again bringing his lips to hers. But Henriette pushed him back, keeping him at bay with her palm. It was all she needed, considering her hold on the man.

“You’re the same,” she whispered.

“And so are you,” Giacomo said, fondly. “You’re just as stunning as you were back then.”

“No,” Henriette said. She backed away, holding up the half of her skirt that now drooped over her thigh. “No, Giac. You haven’t changed. You really are … you really are trapped. Oh, God. Oh, what have I done?”

Giacomo reached out to her, but Henriette shied away. Her nimble fingers roved through the material of her skirt as she searched for the ribbon securing it in place. The skirt was righted with the practiced grace of someone who had years of experience aptly securing clasps and tying knots against the wiles of small, squirming limbs.

“Henriette,” Giacomo said, his eyes tracking her as she scooped up her bodice. “Stop this.”

Giacomo put his hands on her arms. Henriette tried to shrug him off, but this time his hands held firm.

When their eyes met, the look nearly caused Giacomo to cry out. His lips started to move, but no sound emerged for a few seconds until his voice came out in a croak. “No, Henriette. Please. I need you. I always have and I always will. I’ll do anything. Anything! You name it, and I’ll give it to you! Anything you want!”

“Let me go, Giac.”

Giacomo fervently shook his head like a displeased child. Henriette was crying again, and by the way she started to swirl in his vision, so was he.

“Let me go,” Henriette whispered.

Giacomo’s hands shook. He leaned forward to bring his lips to hers, but Henriette turned her face away. Instead, Giacomo was left staring at the regal outline of a chair draped in white cloth. It was sitting across the room, angled in a way that in dim lighting it could be mistaken for a figure – a bride standing by the window waiting for her beloved. He imagined the figure turning around, Henriette regarding him with a smile and a twinkle to her eyes. He imagined pulling back the veil. But when he looked down, he knew that the hands pulling it back weren’t his.

Hands – his hands – fell to his side. His companion was quick to step past him.

The bodice was secured, and flowing, black hair was tied up into perfect knots with little ribbons. Tears were wiped away, and skirts were smoothed. A back was straightened, and a chin tilted up.

Henriette was the picture of poise – she could stroll into the street and not a single person would guess anything was amiss. Well, except for one, and this was what Giacomo had failed to see. He would figure it out sometime later, but not now.

“Thank you for taking the time to call upon me, Senor Casanova, of house Bragadin,” Henriette said, her voice exuding warmth. “But I’m afraid I have other appointments I must attend to this evening, so I must ask you to take your leave.”

Giacomo’s face twisted in pain. “No,” he said, voice hardly a whisper. “You’re pretending. Don’t pretend with me. I’m the only one who you showed your true self to, remember? Don’t do this – not to me.”

Henriette regarded him with the same amicable expression she’d give to someone commenting on the pleasant weather. “It was lovely catching up, Senor Casanova. I will cherish this meeting, since I’m certain both our schedules will leave us unable to do so again any feasible time in the future.”

It would’ve hurt less if she had struck him. Hands reached out, pleading.

“Henriette,” Giacomo said, his voice breaking. “I love you.”

“I wish you a safe journey on your travels back to Spain, Senor Casanova,” Henriette said, offering a curtsy. “And send my warm wishes to your betrothed.”

Henriette swept across the room, her skirts picking up trace amounts of dust that swirled and churned in the still air. She opened the door, wearing a smile exuding false politeness.

Giacomo could hardly stay on his feet. The world was churning the same way it would when he was two bottles deep in a fine chardonnay – but this time he knew that some water and a good night’s sleep wouldn’t make everything better. In fact, he knew that the second he stepped out the room, nothing would ever be good again.

“Tell me the truth, Henriette – tell me you love me. I know you do; you can’t deny yourself that!”

Hope bloomed in his chest as Henriette took a moment to respond. A relieved chuckle escaped his lips and he approached her, arms wide and welcoming. The pleasant expression on his host’s face returned as she gave him her answer.

“I would prefer it if you referred to me as Senora Grimani.”

* * *

The statement ended about a quarter of the way down, yet no other words graced the page. There were dribbles of ink as if a quill had hovered over it for some time, but apparently the author decided to give up; allowing the account of a final parting to fade forever into the recesses of time.

The splotches of ink only gained company when they became intermingled with the tears falling onto the page in loud plops.

Edith bent over, resting her head against the table as her heart broke for the man who would argue that he did not deserve the sympathy.


	3. Chapter 3

“There you are, Sir! I’ve been lookin’ all over for you!”

Giacomo turned about. His face broke into a grin, and he yanked away the cigar hanging between his teeth. “Rocco, old chap! I feel like it’s been _ages! _You got some gold on you, yeah? You’re gonna love this, come here – they got this game called ventiuna, right? It’s like poker except you use the cards to try to get as close to twenty-five without going over.”

“It’s twenty-one, Senor Casanova!” a portly man corrected with a chuckle. “Not twenty-five!”

“Oh! Is that why I keep losing?” Giacomo asked, the table bursting into laughter as he grinned.

Clouds of cigar smoke made it difficult to see the game Giacomo was referring to. The men milling about were reminiscent of the dragons in the old fairy tales Rocco used to read Giac – clouds drifting from nostrils as they chatted over their various hoards scattered along the tables. There was a level of relief that it was this place, and not a house of ill-repute, where Rocco finally came across his former employer. This didn’t mean all had been forgiven, however.

“You’d been scheduled to dine with the Hidalga tonight,” Rocco said, leaning into Giacomo’s ear.

Giacomo giggled, revealing that cigars hadn’t been his only vice that evening. “Ah, ‘The Hidalga.’ Using her title instead of her name, are we? Lina would insist on calling her ‘Lina,’ you know.”

Rocco cleared his throat. “I will address my mistress as one of my station should.”

His charge leaned back in his seat, eyeing Rocco as if the man might be an impostor. “Since when did you start using all that fancy language?”

This elicited a scoff. “Since I got hired by an actual noble, and not just some third-rate impersonator who gave himself some bloody stupid title based off a shoddy river.”

Giacomo smiled like a madman, clapping his hands together. “Aww, that’s my man! Come on now, take a seat and let me show you what not to do so you can fair better than I have.”

“The Lady is waiting, Sir,” Rocco said. With the skill and patience of someone who’d done the task many times before, Rocco gripped Giacomo’s arm and brought him to his feet. Dragging the newly minted noble of the Bragadin family through the gambling hall turned out to be more challenging than anticipated, since Giacomo’s gait was about as straightforward as a bumblebee’s.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Giacomo whined, snatching a glass of wine off a nearby shelf as they approached the entryway. “The old Rocco I knew would’ve stepped up to the challenge!”

“The old Rocco you knew was penniless, and a fool – the latter of which would’ve been tempted, but the former of which would’ve held him at bay.”

“Then you can borrow my money!” Giacomo said. He paused to down the glass of wine in one go. “I’ve got loads of the stuff!”

“You want this to turn out again like Paris?” Rocco said, rounding on him as they stepped into the night. “The three of us riding off with only our clothes on our backs and a couple beads of pearls?”

“Well that all turned out alright, dinnit?” Giacomo swayed as his arm flourished about. “Look at us know! Living like kings – not a care in the world.”

“Maybe for you,” Rocco said, eyeing the man up and down.

“Naturally.” Giacomo was disappointed when he raised the glass to his lips and found it empty. He tossed it aside, the glass shattering against the cobblestones with an impressive crash.

Rocco put his hands on his hips, regarding Giacomo with a shake to his head. “Look, Sir, I know you’ve got the wedding jitters with that comin’ up and all, but you’ve got to get ahold of yourself! You can’t go ‘round gambling all public-like without riskin’ the Hidalga looking bad!”

“Does the sky look _green _to you?” Giacomo asked, squinting at the stars.

“Sir!”

“Aw, it’s fine, Rocco,” Giacomo said, waving away his concern. “I’m here on _business.”_

The last word was spoken as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Business?” Rocco asked, eyeing him up and down. "What sort of business?"

“All those bloated, vapid bastards in there are merchants for some company or another.” Giacomo held onto Rocco for balance as he delicately lowered himself to the ground. “Everyone here is so uptight they won’t even let me bring in dancin’ girls. Like the ones from Paris, remember? Oh I’m sure you remember – you disappeared with at least two of ‘em, you dog.”

“Oh, no!” Rocco said, catching Giacomo beneath the armpits. “No, no, no! Up you go, sir! I brought the carriage with me, and it’s about time we head back home.”

“Let’s go to Moscow!” Giacomo exclaimed, suddenly full of vitality as he danced out of Rocco’s grasp. “I’ve heard their empress is a beauty, and I’m sure they get into all sorts of shenanigans up there beneath the fur coats and all, eh?”

Rocco’s exasperated expression shifted. “What are you sayin’? You want to _leave?”_

The smile slowly drained from Giacomo’s face. His companion didn’t have time to get a good read of what was happening before the cheery expression returned with a snap.

“Don’t be ridiculous! It was only a joke, Rocco! Where’s your sense of humor?”

Giacomo patted Rocco on the shoulder as he strode past. The other man turned to watch his retreating form, baffled, as Giacomo chatted of the game ventiuna and how he was _certain _someone must’ve told him the rules wrong to get the better of him. When Giacomo’s unsteady gait caused him to stumble, Rocco was quick to his side, supporting him as he always had.

For now, at least.

* * *

“I’ve been informed that I’ve been neglecting you.”

Giacomo leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. “By whom?”

“By the only person in the household who would inform me that I’ve been neglecting you.”

“Ah, Francesca did always have a soft-spot for me,” Giacomo joked. Lina mirrored the wry expression, closing the door to Giacomo’s quarters behind her.

“Rocco’s worried about you,” Lina said, crossing the room. The desk Giacomo sat behind wasn’t as impressive as her own, but it was certainly beginning to mimic the organized chaos of her workspace. She settled herself down in the small chair facing Giacomo, but not before relocating a few rolled-up maps that had been in the seat to a safer location.

Giacomo's eyes followed her movements as she took a seat. “Are you worried about me?”

“No,” Lina said. “Should I be?”

“What are you doing right now?” Giacomo asked, tossing his quill aside.

Lina frowned. “Talking to you?”

“Let’s go into the city,” Giacomo said, leaning forward. “There’s bound to be some Viscount or another having a shindig tonight. We’ll dance and drink and gossip about the nobles who think putting on their own shoes is quaint.”

Lina chuckled. “Why in the world would you want to go to one of those if you didn’t have to?”

“Oh, don’t pretend like they’re no fun!” Giacomo said as he leapt from his seat. He rounded the desk and stopped to bow with a flourish. “May I have this dance, Hidalga Verona?”

“Absolutely not,” Lina said, although the smile stuck on her face conveyed otherwise.

“May I have this dance,” Giacomo repeated, keeping his head bowed, “Lina, ‘accomplished-industrialist-and-one-of-the-finest-products-of Spain’s-education-system,’ Jilani?”

“Well, now I can’t say no,” Lina said, accepting his outstretched hand. She was swept out of the chair, and quickly turned in circles as they danced about the room.

“You know,” Giacomo said after a moment. “You’re a terrible dancer.”

“And you’re terrible at keeping your mouth shut.”

“Don’t I know it?” Giacomo grinned. He pulled away to open the door. “Come on! Go put on something nice and let’s hit the town, yeah?”

“Oh, you were serious,” Lina said, furrowing her brow. “Oh, no. I can’t do that.”

Giacomo fervently persisted. “Come on! You hardly ever get out of this stuffy old place! It’ll be just the two of us against everyone else, yeah? We’re outsiders looking in; it’s all part of the act! That’s the fun of it!”

Lina chuckled again, although her expression was somewhat dubious. “What in the world are you talking about? You’re a noble, too, if you haven’t already forgotten. There is no ‘us versus them,’ Giacomo.”

“Call me Giac.”

The humor disappeared from Lina’s face. “What? No – it would be too confusing.”

“I just.” Giacomo’s smile faltered. “I just miss being called Giac.”

Lina hit him with a pitying expression that left Giacomo fighting to keep his lips from twisting into a frown.

“You probably don’t need it,” she said, stepping forward to gently take his hands. “But Giac’s – erm, _your son’s _– Spanish lesson is in half an hour. You can sit in on it, if you like. Your Spanish is quite commendable, and it would be good for him to practice with someone else other than myself for a change.”

Giacomo scoffed. “So you think me sitting in silence with my son for an hour is more fun than going out?”

“Funny,” Lina said at the perceived joke. “I think you’d be impressed; and it would be good for you to see him.”

_“'See him,’”_ Giacomo said. “As if I don’t already see the boy every day skulking at me over breakfast.”

“He’s just not a lively person in the mornings,” Lina said. “And you shouldn’t talk about him that way.”

“He’s my son; I’ll talk about him however I bloody well want to.”

Lina’s expression darkened. “No, you can’t.”

Giacomo yanked his hands from hers. “Yes, I can. You’re not his family, so don’t go around acting like you’re all high and mighty and that you know any better than me.”

The look Lina gave him was like a strike to the gut. Giacomo left the room, unable to look her in the eye. He stomped down the hall, ignoring the first few angry shouts of his name until the final call wavered. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Lina had given up on following after him. She looked furious, but the quiver to her lip indicated she wasn't as composed as she tried to be.

A silent curse hissed between Giacomo’s lips. He looked up at the ceiling, sighed, and turned back the way he came. The trembling lip was hurriedly corrected, and Lina stood defiant as he stopped before her. Giacomo opened his mouth, but Lina beat him to the punch.

“If you ever imply again that Giac is not a member of my family, then I’ll consider it an attack on my honor and act accordingly.”

Giacomo blinked, dumbfounded. “Do you _really _like him that much?”

“Giac’s been by my side nearly every day for months,” Lina said, as if the answer were obvious. “My workload has lightened tremendously because of his aid, and he’s teaching himself new material every day in order to do more. And he …” The waver made a quick reappearance before being corrected. “He has no qualms taking direction from a woman. Giac always assumes that I know of what I speak, and is happy to learn. He’s everything I would ever want in a son, if I were to have one of my own.”

Understanding dawned on Giacomo’s face. “He respects you.”

“He does.”

Giacomo’s eyes wandered about. He sniffed, finally meeting her gaze. “I was a bit out of line, wasn’t I?”

“You were.”

Giacomo nodded. "I owe you an apology."

"You do."

Giacomo offered his palm. Lina placed her hand in his, and he brought it to his lips. "My sincerest apologies for making the grave mistake of trying to assume what's in a woman's heart."

"Apology accepted."

Despite the words, Lina continued to regard him with a cold expression. The corner of Giacomo's mouth quirked up as he regarded her. “You’re tantalizing when you’re angry.”

“If you’re not going to keep your mouth shut,” Lina snapped. “Then you better put it to better use.”

Giacomo raised his brows in surprise, but he certainly wasn’t the type of man who needed to be told twice.

A hungry moan escaped him as their lips met, and he was pleasantly surprised to find Lina returning the fervor with full force. A desire that had been coiling and churning within him since Venice came crashing forward, and the images in his mind flitted back and forth between red and pink lips, black and brown eyes, and a soft voice calling out one variation of his name or another.

“G-Giac–”

The remainder of Lina’s statement fell away as Giacomo nibbled on her neck.

“Come on,” Giacomo breathed, peppering her with kisses as he guided her back to his quarters. The door was quickly closed, then locked, before Giacomo returned his full attention to Lina. There was an unsteady amble toward one of the couches before he guided them down. Lina let out a soft gasp as he straddled her, running his fingers up and down her neck.

Giacomo caressed Lina’s cheek and whispered into her ear.

“Excuse me?”

* * *

Edith’s head snapped up. The man waiting in the door’s threshold smiled sheepishly.

“Excuse me, miss,” he repeated. “I was told that this was where I would be able to find Senor Casanova's quarters. I apologize if I’m mistaken.”

“Oh, no!” Edith said, bounding from the chair as if she’d been caught in the act of nicking Giacomo’s valuables. “This is the place.”

“Oh,” the man said. His dark eyes danced over the room as if Giacomo may be hiding in a cupboard or behind the bookshelf, lying in wait to pop out with a ‘boo!’

Edith could only watch, pale and tight-lipped, as the man hesitantly stepped into the room. It was obvious what he would think of her, finding Edith skulking about Sir Casanova’s quarters.

It also didn’t help that the man was undeniably the most handsome she’d ever seen. He was older, probably around her late-father’s age, but the sharp features paired with a trim beard speckled with grey left a hot flush rolling up her cheeks when the man finished his short inspection of the room and turned to regard her.

“Are you Senor Casanova’s …?”

“Friend,” Edith blurted, a little louder than she intended. “I’m his friend. _Only _his friend. Nothing more than his friend.”

“Ah,” the man said. An awkward silence fell between the pair – Edith fiddling with her hands behind her back and the man rotating the weathered tricorne hat in his grasp.

“Well,” the man finally said. “I was told by the housekeeper that Senor Casanova has been absent from the household for the past few days. I was hoping to find a clue to where he went, and when he may return, if you happen to have any information.”

Edith dropped her head to stare at the toes of her slippers peeping out from her skirt. “I’m afraid I can’t answer either of those questions, Sir; I don’t know myself.”

The man let out a long exhale through his nose. He ran a hand over his beard, peering out the window in thought. “I see. I have some other things to attend to in the area, so I’ll be staying in town for a short while. I’ll return later in hopes that Senor Casanova will be in residence.”

Edith didn’t have anything to say to this, so she continued to watch him owlishly.

“What was it you were reading?” the man asked.

“Nothing!”

Edith blushed, hoping, _praying, _that the man didn’t feel inclined to see for himself.

“My apologies,” the man said in earnest. “I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious what sort of books Senor Casanova may have been reading, is all.”

Edith fought to compose herself. “Oh! Yes, of course. Do you know him? Um, Sir Casanova?”

She was given a smile that didn’t reach its owner’s eyes.

“I believe I know more _of _him than I know the man himself.”

This was a statement Edith could whole heartedly agree with. She was about to tell the man so when he suddenly reached into his jacket pocket.

“Would you be able to convey a message to Senor Casanova on my behalf?” he asked. “If you happen to see him, that is.”

Edith nodded fervently. She was offered a sealed envelope alongside a grateful smile.

“Tell him he doesn’t owe me anything,” the man said. “But I would be forever grateful if he would at least make a consideration on my mother’s behalf.”

“Oh! Um … yes. Of course.”

“Thank you,” the man said, polity inclining his head. “And I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh! Um, Edith.”

“Thank you again, Edith,” the man said, causing her heart to melt. “I’m certain Senor Casanova will know where to find me, but if you need to send a message, I’ll be at the inn under the name Jilani.”

Edith’s heart – which had previously been beating so hard she was certain her companion was going to take notice – suddenly stopped.

“Ji-Jilani?”

“That’s right,” the man said. His eyebrow quirked in response to Edith’s gob smacked expression. “I didn’t think anyone this far out would’ve heard of it; are you familiar with my family’s company?”

“Yes,” Edith squeaked, making a massive understatement.

“I’ll be. My mother will certainly be happy to hear that our reputation has spread so far outside the major cities – she’ll gush over it for weeks.” A playful wink was shot her way, and Edith’s knees nearly gave out.

“Good day, miss Edith,” the man said, tipping the brim of his hat before taking his leave. Edith watched him go, seemingly forgetting how to do anything but breathe until the hem of the man’s long jacket disappeared around the corridor.

Her attention drifted to the letter in her hands. The only adornment on the outside was the navy seal depicting a sandpiper flying over ocean waves, and large initials reading J.S.C.

The letter was popped open without hesitation. Edith unfurled the small note inside, her brow furrowing as she read the looping script.

“It’s just a date.”

A date that was three days from now, to be precise. She flipped over the paper, looking for a sign of anything more, but it was blank. A quick rummage through the empty envelope yielded no further results.

“Yeah, that’s him there.”

Edith jumped, scrambling to find her washcloth to make it look like she was doing at least a semblance of her job.

“Is that really?” another voice said – a woman, this time. “He may be handsome, but how far does that get the old librarian when his son leaves him to rot in a place like this?”

Edith’s stomach dropped like a stone. Her eyes darted out the open doorway into the hall. A house boy was at one of the windows, looking out. A laundry maid Edith only recognized in passing stood at his side as she balanced a basket on her hip.

Her hands curled around cold stone as Edith scrambled to the window. She spotted the man from earlier conversing with the stable hand as he pulled himself up onto what was presumably his horse. The man tipped his hat after getting himself settled, then rode off toward the main road exiting the castle grounds.

“Seems like a nice bloke,” the house boy said. “Gave me a tip for takin’ his horse back earlier. Lot nicer than the old man.”

“The old man's not nice to you because you’re _a boy,” _the laundry maid said. “I’d let him be a lot nicer to me, though, if he looked anything like his lad.”

_Wait … son?! But he said his name was–_

Edith flew back to the desk, her eyes frantically scanning the page as she tried to find where she’d left off.

_He couldn’t be … could he? Did they …?_

Edith’s frantic thoughts were pushed away as she finally found her place in the text.

* * *

Lina let out a soft gasp as Giacomo straddled her on the small couch. He delicately ran his fingers up and down her neck as he leaned in and whispered into her ear.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I do,” Lina said, her chest heaving. “I love you.”

“Tell me you’d wait for me,” Giacomo said, burying his face in her neck. “You’d wait for me for however long it took for us to be together, wouldn’t you?”

Saying that Lina was inexperienced in pillow talk was a massive understatement, but even someone like her was able to detect that something wasn’t quite right.

“Giacomo?”

“The two of us, that’s all that ever mattered,” Giacomo murmured. “Who cares about how much money we have? I can land on my feet wherever I go. I could make you happy; something he could never do.”

Lina shifted, trying to read the look on Giacomo’s face. “Who in the world are you referring to?”

Giacomo lifted his head as if it took him great effort to do so. His blue eyes seemed to stretch into eternity as Lina stared at them in apprehension.

“No one,” Giacomo croaked. “I’m … referring to no one.”

Giacomo slumped back. Lina pushed herself into a sitting position as worry etched over her features.

“I’m feeling ill, is all,” Giacomo said. Considering the pallor that had fallen over his face, his companion didn’t have a hard time believing it.

“I’ll have Martha bring a cold-press,” Lina said, brushing his bangs aside to place her hand over his forehead. “And I’ll inform the kitchen to make some broth.”

“Not,” Giacomo interjected. “Not _that kind _of sick. I … had too much to drink last night, I think. Pushed myself a little too far.”

Lina’s hand moved to gingerly cup his cheek. Giacomo smiled weakly, and she pulled away.

“I’ll have someone bring you some cool water, and allow you to rest,” she said. Her skirts ruffled as she got to her feet. “Unless, you would you like me to stay and read to you?”

“No.”

When Giacomo didn’t elaborate, Lina uncomfortably cleared her throat.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow for tea, then? Eleven o’clock?”

“I’ll be here.”

Giacomo was staring off into space. He regarded the hazy form of Lina as she crossed the room, pausing at the door as if waiting for him to call out. After a moment, she showed herself out, closing the door with a soft click.

* * *

“I don’t know what you’re planning, but you better tell me now if I should ready a horse.”

“A horse?” Giacomo asked, glancing to the man at his side.

“Or the lady’s fowler, if need be,” Rocco said, looking squeamish.

“What the bloody hell makes you think I’ll ever want to get anywhere near that abomination again?” Giacomo asked, his lip curling in disgust.

“I don’t know!” Rocco said, wide-eyed. “I’m just worried things’ll go south, is all.”

“Is Lina angry at me over something?” Giacomo asked as they began to descend the stairs. “I _know _I’m late for tea, but I have a good excuse. It was … ah … I’ll think of something.”

It took Giacomo a moment to notice Rocco was no longer at his side. He looked up as he reached the landing to see the man watching him as if his head had caught fire.

“Did you not read the letter I put on your desk?!” Rocco said.

“Probably not,” Giacomo said with a shrug.

“You know the person Hidalga Verona has been talking about?” Rocco said, now pounding down the steps in a bid to intercept Giacomo reaching the sitting room. “The friend of hers from England?”

“Right, the Venetian ambassador,” Giacomo said, pulling on the hem of his jacket to straighten it. “I recall that was the last conversation I had with a full set of teeth. She’s mentioned him paying a visit, a few times.” Giacomo hit him with a playful smile as he reached for the door handle. “Is he handsome? Do you think I should be worried?”

“Giac–”

“Ah,” a voice said. Giacomo’s eyes snapped ahead. He watched as the man who’d previously been engaging Lina in conversation rose to his feet. He was indeed handsome, and smiled warmly despite Giacomo’s stunned expression.

“Senor Casanova-Bragadin,” the blond man said. He strode across the room with as much ease as if he were welcoming Giacomo into his own home. “I’m not sure if you recall, but I’m Senor Alexius Grimani; it’s a pleasure to make your reacquaintance.”

Giacomo was speechless. The man who attempted to take his freedom, and succeeded in taking something even more precious away, stopped before him.

“I was telling Lina that despite us both being members of the Venetian court around the same time, our paths hardly ever crossed,” Grimani continued. “Goes to show the sort of humdrum lifestyle I’ve been living thus far, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, don’t undermine yourself,” Lina said, setting down her tea. “Giacomo has lived the kind of life that could be hard for _anyone _to compare themselves to outside of a character from a novel.”

“Yes, it’s been quite harrowing, from what I heard," Grimani said.

A hand was offered as Grimani smiled pleasantly. This was met with his companion taking a step back.

“Is something the matter?” Lina asked, leaning back in the couch in an attempt to get a better view.

Giacomo’s voice came out in a low hiss, “What in all hell are you doing here?”

Grimani didn’t answer. He only watched Giacomo expectantly, the very picture of poise. Slowly, as if his hand weighed over a ton, Giacomo lifted it. His limp hand was given a single, firm shake before Grimani withdrew.

“Lina was telling me about the duel during your engagement ball.” Grimani returned to his seat opposite Lina, sitting in a proper straight-backed position that looked appropriate but was likely highly uncomfortable. “A duel, of all things – I can hardly imagine. The Spaniards have a way of getting rather hot-blooded, don’t they?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Lina said. “Helio’s only half Spaniard, but he’s all imprudent.”

Grimani laughed. The sound seemed to snap Giacomo out of his daze, prompting him to swiftly cross the room.

“You two are chummy, yeah?” Giacomo said, settling down on the couch beside Lina. “You must be, to be so rude as to not refer to the lady of the house by her proper title.”

Grimani didn’t skip a beat. “Heavens be, you’re right. My apologies, Hidalga Verona; I’ve forgotten myself.”

“Oh, no!” Lina said in protest. “Please, you can refer to me as Lina, as always. We’ve been acquaintances for years – I feel that it would be _more _awkward to use formal titles at this point.”

“I’ll refer to your judgement,” Grimani said. The grin he hit Giacomo with caused the other man to prickle.

“It’s a wonder you two never crossed paths while in Venice,” Lina said, pausing to sip her tea. “You’re both highly opinionated; I’m sure there would’ve been some rather stimulating discussions.”

“Well, that may have been due to an action on my part,” Grimani said. There was a noticeable stiffness to Giacomo’s shoulders. A set of blue eyes bore into Grimani as he casually reached for his cup.

“I thumped him right on the nose during our first meeting.”

“Alex!” Lina exclaimed, lifting a hand over her mouth. “Whatever for?!”

“Tell me you didn’t want to do the same when you first met Senor Casanova,” Grimani joked.

Lina regarded Giacomo with a wide-eyed expression. She seemed to be hovering on her reaction to the statement based on her betrothed’s rebuttal. It took a moment, but Giacomo’s lips curled up in a queasy smile.

“Yes,” he said. “I suppose I just have the face of a man who deserves to be trodden upon.”

“I think it has more to do with you assuming you know everything,” Lina said, the tension leaving her shoulders. “Goodness, I was on the verge of slapping you upon our first meeting as well. Oh, no – our second. I was having too much fun making you think I was the housemaid on our first.”

“Do tell,” Grimani said, leaning forward. “That sounds like it will be rather interesting tale.”

“Oh, not as much as you think.” Lina stood, smoothing her skirt. Grimani politely rose to his feet, Giacomo quickly following suit.

“I’ll tell you while I show you the grounds,” Lina said. “I’m rather proud of the gardener’s work on the rose bushes this year – I think you’ll be impressed.”

“I’m sure I will,” Grimani said, offering Lina his elbow. “You wrote that they underwent a blight of some sort last season, no?”

“Yes! I’m surprised you remember something so mundane,” Lina said, taking his arm. “Nearly half the rose bushes had to be extracted, then I brought in another two dozen or so …”

Lina’s voice trailed away as they approached the large bay doors at the back of the room. Francesca was waiting to open them up to the veranda, where Grimani and Lina stepped out into the mid-day sun.

“Sir?”

Rocco had popped his head through the main doors. He studied Giacomo as the man flexed his fingers.

“Giacomo?” Lina’s voice carried.

Giacomo shot Rocco a crazed expression. The hand gripping the door tightened as Rocco’s eyes grew wide.

“Senor Casanova-Bragadin,” Francesca said, stepping into view. “Hidalga Verona is waiting.”

In the blink of an eye, Giacomo was smiling. “Coming!” he sang, turning on his heel. He bound out of the room with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning. “Ah, where were we, then? Oh, yes – well, when I first came to this fine estate, I suppose I was under an impression that Lina and I were on better terms than the reality. That's changed, clearly, hasn't it darling?”

* * *

The remainder of the day was spent on idle chit-chat. The only thing keeping Giacomo sane during that time was imagining bashing Grimani’s head in with the nearest gardening trowel or paperweight that happened to be in reach whenever the man turned his back.

Giacomo was surprised to come across Giac hard at work when the tour of the house led to Lina’s study. The boy shot Grimani apprehensive glances, but he explained his tasks in a soft-spoken manner that nearly left his father floored over hearing his son stringing more than two words together at a time.

Grimani responded to the short presentation by complimenting Giac on his reading apprehension and knowledge of the trading laws. Giac didn’t show much reaction to this, but Lina was practically beaming at his side. She further urged Giac to demonstrate his Spanish, much to the boy’s chagrin. But Giac eventually relented with a few comments about the weather, which Grimani replied to in his own curt version of the language. After Lina had finished showing off Giac like a prized show dog, they continued the tour of the mansion until finally ending at the dining room for dinner.

As he had been for most of the day, Giacomo remained uncharacteristically subdued. There would be bursts of energy here and there – usually upon Lina’s request for him to recount one story or another – but aside from that, he was content to watch Grimani with a steady glare. The subject of his attention certainly noticed, but took no heed. Grimani seemed more than content to discuss trade embargos and the difficulties he faced in getting his cook to attempt anything even remotely resembling traditional Italian cuisine. It wasn’t until the subject of Grimani’s family came up that Giacomo’s posture straightened.

“Henriette is well,” Grimani said pleasantly. “She told me to send you her love. She and the children will be returning to England next spring, and I know she would be delighted for you to visit our home again.”

A loud clang rang through the room. Grimani and Lina looked on in surprise as Giacomo hastily went to pick up the fork that dropped to the floor. Martha was at his side in the blink of an eye, shooing him back as she fetched the object and retreated to the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Giacomo said, a hint of something frantic behind his eyes. “Did you say you’ve met? You and … and–”

“My wife,” Grimani said, holding Giacomo’s stare. “Yes, Henriette and Lina were fast friends.”

“Oh, Henriette is wonderful,” Lina said. “You’d like her – she has such a biting tongue. She and Alex are nearly opposite in terms of temperament, but that balances things out quite well, I think.”

“Do you?” Grimani said, returning his attention to Lina. “I know there are some who’ve always thought we were an odd match.”

Lina laughed. “You _are _an odd match! But that’s what keeps things interesting, no?”

Grimani chuckled. “Yes, I suppose.”

“I dunno,” Giacomo piped up. “Seems like if two people are a little _too _different, then they’d have that much harder of a time finding any common ground, wouldn’t they?”

Lina’s brow furrowed. Giacomo ignored her, twirling the fresh fork he’d been given between his fingers as he regarded Grimani.

“In some circumstances, yes,” Grimani said. “But luckily I don’t believe my wife and I fall into that categorization.”

“That so?” Giacomo said, putting his elbows on the table. “So the reason why your wife isn’t always by your side isn’t due to any sort of … martial issues, then? Because that’s generally what they tend to be, from what I’ve learned. I can give you a few tips in that department, if you like; you could say I’ve perfected the craft.”

“Giacomo!” Lina exclaimed. A fork was nearly dropped again as Giacomo flinched. He had, in all honesty, forgotten Lina was there.

“If you must know,” Grimani said, his smile not reaching his eyes. “England’s educational system isn’t up to snuff; Henriette and I decided that it would be better for the children to have their schooling in Venice.”

“What a very convenient excuse for you and your wife to be countries apart,” Giacomo quipped.

A scraping sound cut through the air as Lina’s chair was pushed back. She stood, her jaw set as she hit Giacomo with a look that would set him aflame if she were able. Grimani was quick to stand, Giacomo unsteadily following suit.

“Explain yourself,” Lina snapped.

“Ah …”

“You better have a fine reason to be insulting a guest to my home, Giacomo Casanova,” she continued. “I will not tolerate this level of discourteous behavior nor the embarrassment you’re bringing upon the Jilani name.”

A strained chuckle escaped Giacomo's lips. “A joke! Only a joke, darling! Just a few … ah … jabs between the guys, you know? That’s how we men do things!”

“Indeed,” Grimani said. There was surprise from both companions as he stepped up to Giacomo’s defense. “It was all in jest. There was no offense taken, I assure you.”

Lina seemed uncertain. An attempt to reassure her was made when Grimani continued.

“In fact, I was hoping to have some time with Senor Casanova-Bragadin to allow us to become better acquainted. I’ve heard he’s formidable in poker, if the rumors are to be believed.”

This was an obvious jab, since by those same rumors it was also known that Giacomo had lost everything he had due to said game. But Lina was too busy being relieved Grimani had taken Giacomo’s behavior in stride to notice.

“Oh, yes,” Lina said. “Yes, certainly; I’ll have Rocco ready the sitting room.”

The cook had prepared a rather impressive flan, but unfortunately the reception fell flat as the trio finished dessert. Lina wouldn’t meet Giacomo’s gaze, and he watched glumly as she offered Grimani some coffee. When the offer was politely accepted, Lina rose from her seat. This time, Giacomo sprung to his feet before the other man and shot him a smug side-eye.

“I’ll have the coffee sent to the sitting room,” Lina said. “I’ll be finalizing some contracts in my office, so feel free to have Martha call on me if anything is needed.”

“Your hospitality is greatly appreciated,” Grimani said, nodding. Giacomo mockingly mouthed the other man’s sentiments, his face snapping into a charming smile as Lina regarded him.

The slow click of her heels accompanied Lina as she stepped up to Giacomo. She held out her hand, Giacomo quickly bringing it to his lips. The steady expression was all the warning he needed, and Lina wordlessly made her leave.

“Uh …”

Giacomo turned toward the door leading into the adjacent sitting room. Rocco was waiting in the threshold, nervously glancing between Giacomo and Grimani.

“Let’s retire,” Grimani said. He nodded at Rocco, the man returning the gesture in a mechanical manner. His eyes were wide as dinner plates as Giacomo approached.

“Do you need me to …?”

“No,” Giacomo said. “Leave us.”

The candles in the sitting room had been lit, and two armchairs were arranged to face each other before the large windows. A slight breeze caused the thin curtains to flutter, occasionally revealing a sliver of the moonlit gardens. The atmosphere would be generally pleasant if Giacomo found himself in the company of literally anyone else.

“Grim–”

“I’d like to wait for our coffee before getting started,” Grimani said, taking a seat in one of the armchairs.

Giacomo scoffed. He sauntered to the opposite armchair, putting one leg up in a casual position to counteract Grimani’s straight-backed posture. Impatient ‘hums’ and ‘haws’ escaped his lips in an attempt to get a rise out of his companion, but Grimani only glanced out the window, his attention finally being pulled away as Martha entered with a tray sporting two cups of coffee. She placed the beverages down, referring to Grimani to ring the bell for any assistance using a tone that was far more genial than what Giacomo had heard before. When the door closed behind her, Giacomo leaned forward in his seat.

“I haven’t yet had my coffee,” Grimani said, lifting the cup to his lips.

“Oh, you smarmy bastard!” Giacomo said, his lips curling in disgust. “Now you’re gonna tell me the real reason why you’re here.”

“I would think you would know,” Grimani said.

“No, I don’t bloody know,” Giacomo spat. “Just … bugger off to England or Venice or Timbuctoo for all I care.”

“I will be making my leave, soon enough,” Grimani said, setting down his cup. “But not before I ensure that Lina doesn’t marry you.”

Giacomo shook his head, blinking rapidly in surprise. “Oh, is that all, then? One wife isn’t good enough for you, and you have to take another from me now, is that it? Are you sure you could even handle two women, Grimani? Because by the sound of it, it seems that you’re having trouble handling just one.”

Grimani’s eyes narrowed. “Lina is a dear friend to my family," he said. "I will not have you conning her out of her fortune and driving the Jilani’s good name into the ground. Lina worked far too hard to put herself where she is today – I will not allow you to ruin all that.”

Giacomo smiled. He lifted his hands, gifting Grimani with a slow applause. “Bravo! A most excellent performance, I’d say. The first act was a little unsteady, but you brought it home in the end.”

“You think I’m lying?”

Giacomo’s smile turned sly. “I _know _you’re lying. You can’t fool me, Grimani; You socked me – a complete stranger at the time, mind – right in the face when I merely shared a differing opinion to you when it came to philosophy. Do you honestly think I’d believe that a man like you would show any kind of real respect for a woman acting so far outside her station? You know what _I _think …”

Giacomo leaned closer. _“I _think you’ve spent far too many nights without a woman to warm your bed, and now you’re trying to get on good terms with the only one who’s naïve enough to give you the time of day.”

“I believe you just insulted your fiancée, Senor.”

“Oh, Lina would agree,” Giacomo said with a wave. “She really can be daft when it comes to reading people. And I’m sure that your pining flew right over her head.”

“I’m not pining.”

“Interesting; because I can’t think of a single other reason why _any _man would travel thousands of kilometers to break up an engagement unless said man was after the woman for himself. Unless …” Giacomo leaned back, opening his arms wide. “Unless it’s _me _your after? In that case, I must say I’m quite flattered.”

“You …” Grimani’s features twisted in revulsion. His companion found this amusing, based on the wide smile adorning his face.

“I owe Lina a great debt,” Grimani said, fighting to keep his voice steady.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Grimani said. The corner of his mouth twitched, and Giacomo couldn’t help but to admit that he was burning up with curiosity.

“Lina is the reason my wife loves me.”

Giacomo was sure the words _meant _something, but it took him a moment to put them together in a way that made sense.

_‘I’ve heard a bit about her, you know,’ _Henriette’s voice echoed. _‘… I hear she’s lovely.’_

_She lied._

Henriette had met Lina, face to face, and lied to him about it. She had invited Lina into her home; dined with her; and, presumably, shared secrets.

_She lied to me._

“Back when I was in Venice,” Grimani said, his voice growing soft. “People always seemed to forget that I had her first; that Henriette was mine until you strode in.”

He looked away, clenching his jaw. “I gave Henriette _everything. _I did everything she wanted, and yet …”

Giacomo’s jaw dropped as something clicked into place. “You … you love her. All this time, I thought you were just using her to get back at me. But you … _actually _love Henriette.”

Grimani’s eyes slid back to his. “I do. I also tried to control her, from what I discovered.” He looked away again, seemingly having trouble holding Giacomo’s gaze. There was the distinct possibility that the man only ever spoke so candidly in front of a priest; a circumstance accompanied by a handy layer of wood and nails between them to keep the conversation from appearing too intimate.

“Your assumption was correct,” Grimani said, utterly shocking his companion. “I had no respect for Lina upon our first meeting; I found her position acting as the foreign representative for her family’s shipping company to be completely ludicrous and dismissed her almost immediately. But then, as it so happened, my daughter was born not soon after.” Grimani’s expression softened. “My daughter, who I held in my arms and I realized that what I saw for her future was such a stark contrast to what I envisioned for my son’s, it made me ill. I only had this thought because I had seen a woman disregarding her accustomed station and rising above in order to make a name for herself. I realized then that if my own daughter were to do such a thing, I would be proud.”

Grimani reached for his coffee cup, noted that it was empty, and set it back down. Giacomo didn’t dare to speak – afraid that jostling Grimani from his thoughts would spook him and shut down any attempts to hear more.

“I befriended Lina,” Grimani continued. “I was the only person in the English court to do so, unsurprisingly. I found that I rather liked her company, and began inviting her to my home. She and Henriette were fast friends, and that’s when I began to see what I was doing wrong.”

Grimani stared at the empty cup, and smiled. “It never crossed my mind to ask Henriette what her opinion was on certain happenings in the English court – I never dreamed she’d have any interest in it whatsoever. But then I came across the two of them out in the garden one day, and I could only listen in awe as Henriette voiced her displeasure concerning how King George has a tendency to sideline talented commanders into lesser stations if he doesn’t like them on a personal level. Her arguments were thought out, well structured, and she could convey them in a clear manner – the experience was absolutely eye-opening.”

Giacomo started to laugh. This elicited a scowl as Grimani waited for Giacomo to compose himself.

“It took you … what?” Giacomo said, regarding Grimani in amazement. “Over a decade to just now come to the conclusion that Henriette is clever? I knew that from the moment I met her!”

“Not just that she was clever,” Grimani snapped. “I already knew that. What I learned was that my wife was human.”

The smile slowly ebbed from Giacomo’s face.

“I discovered that, like Lina, I had placed my wife into a … a category, of some sort; there I had kept her locked in a little case like she was nothing more than a jewel to be admired. I had placed her out of my reach, and it was no wonder why she didn’t love me.”

Understanding dawned on Giacomo’s face. “Funny, isn’t it?” he said. Their gazes met, and it was the first time there was no malice behind it. “Turns out that all they want is for us to listen.”

Grimani nodded in agreement. “Yes. Yes, I do believe so. I listened, and we talked. It was like meeting her for the first time, and I think for her it had been the same for me. And then one day Henriette …”

An embarrassed look crossed Grimani’s face. His companion had seen that look all too often when discussing certain topics that more prudish men found uncomfortable. The realization of what Grimani was implying caused his stomach to drop.

“Henriette had never been … _affectionate _in that way, before. That’s when I realized that things had changed, and that she truly did love me, then.”

_‘I would prefer it if you referred to me as Senora Grimani’_

Henriette’s voice tumbled through his head, and suddenly her actions from their last meeting made sense. Grimani was right – Henriette loved him. What had previously been thought to be impossible, improbable, and infeasible, had indeed happened.

_‘Let me go, Giac’_

Giacomo fought back the tremble to his lip as his eyes wandered around the room.

_You were already moving on, and I almost ruined that for you._

“In conclusion,” Grimani said, as if ending a presentation on a much blander subject matter. “Even if it was unintentional, Lina was instrumental in shifting how I viewed the world, and thus how I treated my wife, and how she now treats me. And Lina is a fine woman who deserves better than to marry a man who attempted to run off with another man’s wife.”

Giacomo’s breath caught in his chest. Dread bubbled up from his gut, spreading throughout his body like the blight that struck down Lina’s rose bushes.

“How?” he croaked. “You were in England. How would you know?”

“I know,” Grimani said, solemnly, “because my wife told me.”

Giacomo shook his head. “Nuh uh! No! She would never do that! Even if not for my sake, she would never risk you taking away her children!”

“I would never be so much of a monster as to take them away from her,” Grimani said, offended. “Even if we were to … _separate … _Henriette would keep the children. I would never do something so spiteful.”

“So … then …”

_She could’ve left him. She could’ve left him at any time._

“Henriette told me everything.” Grimani reached into his jacket, producing a letter. “Including her wishes for me to keep silent so that your marriage to Lina would go through. Henriette is under the impression that Lina would be good for you, but I feel that is rather unfair for her. A husband and wife should be there to support one another, not have one constantly reeling the other back in when they teeter too close to the edge. You would be the death of her and everything she’s built, and I absolutely will not bear witness to that.”

“Look,” Giacomo said, fighting down the panic coursing through his veins. “I get it, alright? I understand why you’d be concerned. But I love Lina. I really, truly do. Hurting her is the last thing I would want to do.”

“The contents of this letter state otherwise.”

“It was a mistake!” Giacomo said, a crazed smile on his face. “I got caught up in the moment, that’s all! It’s all behind me now! Henriette is off the table for good, and I can finally move on, just like she wanted! You’re respecting your wife’s wishes and all that now, yeah?”

“To an extent,” Grimani said, sliding the letter back into his jacket. “But that doesn’t mean I’m no longer allowed to defer to my own judgement. And my own judgement indicates that, sooner or later, you will end up hurting Lina – if that is the case, it may as well be now before you’re wed.”

“What do you want me to do?!” Giacomo said, bounding to his feet. “Just stride in there and call the wedding off? She’d be _devastated. _If she’s so dear to you, why wish that upon her? Why not just allow us to get married and live out our happy little lives the likes of which you seem to have been blessed with, hmm?”

Grimani rose from his chair. He held Giacomo’s gaze for long enough that the other man was hoping he’d consider keeping mum, until he opened his mouth and those hopes were soon dashed.

“Either you will tell her about the meeting with Henriette, or I will.”

Giacomo’s mind whirred, and now more than ever he was grateful to be skilled at thinking on his feet. “It’ll devastate her,” he said. “About Henriette, I mean. To find out that a good friend was a hair’s-width away from copulating with your fiancé … Oh, no, that wouldn’t look good.”

“You’re pathetic,” Grimani spat. “Hiding behind Henriette as an excuse not to fess up for your actions.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re aware of all the consequences,” Giacomo said.

“I believe Lina will forgive Henriette with time,” Grimani said. “Henriette is actually remorseful over what happened.”

“And I’m not?”

“You’re sorry you got caught,” Grimani said. “And I still believe if my wife were to come riding up this instant asking you to run away with her, you would. Your devotion to Lina only goes as deep as your pockets.”

Giacomo’s lips pulled back in a snarl. “I _am not _only marrying her for money!”

“Funny, since it seems an awful lot that way,” Grimani said. He turned, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Giacomo asked, shuffling around the short table to go after him.

“I’m sure Lina is still awake, and I have a letter I’d like her to read.”

“No!” Giacomo shouted. He danced around the furniture, planting himself in Grimani’s path. “What are you going to tell her anyway, huh? That I temporarily had a slip in judgement and tried to convince a married woman to sleep with me? That’s nothing!”

“You know there was far more to it than that,” Grimani said. “And Lina is going to learn every last detail of that meeting, whether it be from your lips or Henriette’s words. Choose wisely, Senor Casanova.”

The world was closing in on him. Giacomo wanted to burst from the room; he wanted to spring onto the back of his horse and just keep riding until the creature fell dead from exhaustion. He wanted to be anywhere – _anywhere – _other than where he was right now.

“Well?”

Giacomo swallowed, although there was nothing there to dampen his throat.

“I’ll do it.”

* * *

“Oh my God!”

The bucket Edith was carrying hit the stone floor with a bang. She stared at the man sitting behind the desk as he regarded her with an innocent expression.

“Well, it’s a good thing that didn’t have any water in it,” Giacomo noted. “If you had _actually _come up here to do your job, the place would be a mess.”

Edith ignored the wayward object entirely as she crossed the room. She stopped before the desk, gob smacked.

“Where have you been?! When in the world did you come back?!”

“This morning,” Giacomo answered. “And is it a crime for a man to want to spend some time to himself?”

Edith’s outrage ebbed away. She recalled the sensation of his fingers burrowing into her shoulder, and how they shook when she divulged the news of Henriette’s death.

“About Henriette,” Edith said, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry.”

Giacomo offered her a weak smile. He nodded in thanks before looking away.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Sir,” Edith offered lamely.

“I didn’t realize I was so sorely missed,” Giacomo said, leaning back in his seat. A wide grin took over his face as if there were nothing amiss. “If you’d like me to comfort you, my dear, you’re going to have to wait a day or so. These old bones aren’t as resilient to the labors of long hours on horseback as they used to be.”

Edith’s lips puckered like she’d bit into a lemon. She reached into her skirts, producing the letter the handsome gentleman had given her the day before. She roughly tossed the object on the desk before crossing her arms.

“What’s this?” Giacomo asked, all innocence as he reached for the paper.

“I think you know,” Edith said. “Just as I think you knew your son was coming, and hid accordingly.”

Giacomo hummed as he unfolded the letter. “I do forget sometimes that you’re clever.”

“Pig.”

A more familiar dynamic had returned between the two of them, and the corner of Giacomo’s mouth momentarily quirked up in a smile. The expression turned more neutral as he stared at the page. “The day after tomorrow,” he said, the energy draining from his voice, “hmm?”

“Are you just going to run away again?”

“Yes,” Giacomo said, folding the letter with a sigh. “Yes, I believe I will.”

“You coward!” Edith slammed her palms on the desk, towering over him. “If that note … if that date means what I think it means … then you need to see her.”

“Do I?”

“Yes!”

Giacomo regarded Edith thoughtfully. He leaned forward in his seat to drag his memoirs front-and-center. “This is where you stopped. Right here, correct?”

Giacomo tapped the page. Edith circled the desk, her eyes running over the book. “No. I stopped at the end, there – all the way at the bottom.”

“Ah.”

Giacomo pinched the corner of the page, grandly flipping it over. His companion’s jaw dropped.

“It’s _blank?!”_

“I have exceptional timing,” Giacomo chirped. “God only knows what else you may have started rummaging through had you realized that was the end. I do have a rather tantalizing collection of wood prints if you’d like to peruse something more _visually _stimulating, though. I even modeled for a few of them myself, and I believe the artist captured my _likeness _to a satisfying degree.”

Edith’s look of disgust was all the answer required.

“Ah, well, maybe some other time,” Giacomo said.

“You _have _to tell me what happened!” Edith demanded. “How did Lina react to the news?”

“Poorly,” Giacomo said. “If you couldn’t already surmise that from the fact that I’m unmarried.”

“You know that’s not what I mean!”

“Of course I do, I’m not a fool.”

“Please!” Edith said. “Please tell me! There’s obviously far more than what you’ve written! Like that man – he’s your and Lina’s son, isn’t he? So the two of you must’ve made up, even for a little while, right?”

Giacomo stared at the blank pages, drumming his fingers on the table. “I believe you’ll have to settle for the abridged version,” he said. “I’m not particularly keen on writing down what happened next.”

“You can’t just deny that it happened!” Edith exclaimed.

“There is no denial in the least,” Giacomo countered. “I simply have no interest in reliving it in excruciating detail.”

“Then in two days’ time, I’ll ask _her.”_

For the first time ever, Edith witnessed Giacomo entirely shocked first-hand. “You wouldn’t!”

“Why not?” Edith asked, lifting her chin in defiance. “You won’t even be here to say otherwise, remember? I’m getting an account of what happened one way or another.”

“Since when did you become such a conniving bitch?”

“I will ask you to watch your language, Sir,” Edith said airily.

“You’ve spent far too much time in my presence,” Giacomo said with a sigh. “You’re getting too uppity for a maid – that’s going to bite you in the end.”

Edith put her hands on her hips, waiting.

A dramatic eye roll was accompanied by Giacomo reaching into a drawer for some ink. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow – I need to commit everything to paper to ensure I haven’t forgotten anything.”

“And that will be enough time?”

“I can assure you, it will.”

“Good.” Edith marched across the room. She scooped up the bucket before making her exit without so much as a second glance.

“The younger generations are so entitled,” Giacomo mumbled. He dipped his quill in the ink, then stared at the blank pages until his eyes began to lose focus. He blinked, exhaled, and began to write.

* * *

Giacomo was waiting at the window when Edith walked in with the sunrise. She handed him a bowl of steaming porridge, and promptly planted herself in the seat across from his desk.

Giacomo quirked his brow, “Impatient, aren’t we?”

“Is it ready?”

The old man scoffed. He took a bite of porridge, looking out over the treetops. “What did you think of him? My son.”

“Courteous, well spoken, and kind,” Edith said. “He must get that from his mother.”

“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, you know,” Giacomo said, turning away from the window.

“Why in the world would I ever want flies?” Edith asked. This was met with a nod as Giacomo couldn’t help but to see her point.

“Alright,” Giacomo said, taking a seat in the large chair. “I suppose its time we finish this chapter in my life.”

* * *

The door to Lina’s study creaked open. The woman was hunched over a document, her lips moving as she squinted at the text.

“I know you can afford reading glasses,” Giacomo said as he slid into the room.

“Reading glasses are for old women,” Lina said, sitting up. “Perhaps I’ll acquire a pair when I’m ninety.”

“Why not one hundred?”

“I’ll probably be blind by then,” Lina said with a smirk. “So it would be a waste of money.”

“Financially sound, as always,” Giacomo said. He closed the door behind him, but made no move to come closer. “There’s something I need to tell you about Grimani. Well, more than just him.”

“Is this an explanation for your behavior from earlier?”

Guilt flashed across Giacomo’s face. This caused Lina to raise her brows, since he seemed far more broken up over the fact than she’d been expecting.

“Grimani and I lied to you,” Giacomo said. “We’ve met before. Many times, to be frank.”

Lina regarded him in puzzlement. “Why in the world would you two lie about that?”

Giacomo cleared his throat, his eyes quickly breaking their gaze. “Grimani is the reason I went to prison. Well, I suppose I was guilty of _some _of the things he accused me of, but mainly it was his doing.”

Lina shook her head. “No. I mean … when I reviewed the paperwork over your conviction, the name was Grimani, but I assumed it was his father. I … suppose it makes sense. So he happened to be the prosecutor for your case?”

“My case was never about all those things the prosecution charged me of,” Giacomo said, voice breaking. “It was about … Henriette.”

“Henriette?” Lina’s slouch disappeared. “How in the world would Henriette be involved with your conviction?”

“Because,” Giacomo said, wishing a hole would appear beneath his feet to swallow him up. “Because I loved her, and tried to take her from Grimani.”

Lina laughed, although neither of them found it amusing. “That’s ridiculous,” she said. “He had you imprisoned because you were trying to court Henriette?”

“It is ridiculous, innit?” Giacomo said, meeting her gaze. “She chose me, but that poor bastard couldn’t handle it, so he tried to have me rot in prison for fifteen years. Fifteen years!”

Lina’s brow furrowed in thought. “That’s … I don’t believe it. Alex would never do something so petty. And Henriette surely would’ve said something to me if the two of you were in acquaintance in such a manner.”

“Are you saying I’m lying?”

“No! But …” Lina dropped her gaze, shifting around the papers on her desk as if sorting them would also help her sort her thoughts. “I just … I don’t understand. I've written to her about you, and she never indicated you two had even met.”

Giacomo dipped his head, squeezing his eyes closed. He took a deep breath, readying himself. “When I left Venice, I had two goals in mind: One was to create my fortune and return to the top of society, and the other was to have my conviction overturned so I could return to Venice for Henriette.”

He didn’t dare to open his eyes. The seconds stretched on with the only sound being the quick breaths through his nose.

“Did your goals change,” Lina’s voice said, so softly he almost couldn't make the words out, “after asking me to marry you?”

Giacomo didn’t answer, his tongue heavy as lead. He listened to the scrape of Lina’s chair, and the click of her shoes as she crossed the room.

“Are you telling me that _everything,” _Lina said, her voice low, “everything came down to me finding a way to pardon you so you could return to Venice? Is that really all this ever was?”

“No,” Giacomo said, lifting his head. “Oh God, Lina, no. I love you, I do.”

“So that’s why you returned?” Lina asked, a trace of hope laced in her voice. “When you went to Venice, you came back. You decided to come back for me.”

Giacomo couldn’t hold her gaze. Lina’s lip began to tremble, and she quickly set her jaw to correct it.

“I …” Giacomo exhaled, running a hand over his face. “I asked her. I asked Henriette to run away with me.”

Lina regarded him as if his skin had turned orange. “She’s married!”

“I know!” Giacomo said. “I know. And I know she’s got children. I just … When I saw her again, I couldn’t hold back.”

Lina grew still. “Did you sleep with her?”

“No. I … things got a little heavy for a bit, but –”

Giacomo raised his hand to touch the burning sensation spreading over his cheek. Lina was heaving, her hand still raised as she stared at him with brown eyes brimmed with tears.

“I deserve that,” Giacomo whispered.

“You’re lucky,” Lina said, her voice shaking. “You’re lucky my brothers aren’t here, or you’d be dead.”

“I know.”

The energy left Lina like a campfire doused at the end of the night. She stumbled to the nearest chair; a hand clapped over her mouth as she whined.

“Lina,” Giacomo whispered, kneeling at her level. “Lina, my darling, I’m sorry. I made a huge mistake, and I’m owning up to it. Nothing really happened, I assure you!”

Lina’s gaze hardened, and she slowly lowered the hand from her mouth. “Why now?”

“What?”

“Why are you telling me this now?” she asked. Understanding dawned on her features. “Alex knows.”

Giacomo nodded. Lina gasped, looking away.

“Oh, God,” she said. “I’m such a fool.”

“No! No, you’re not,” Giacomo said, taking her hand. “I made a mistake – it has nothing to do with you. Lina, please – I love you.”

“Henriette,” Lina croaked, looking down at him. “Henriette turned you down, didn’t she?”

“Of course she did,” Giacomo said, shaking his head. “I never should’ve expected anything different. She moved on, and I just … I just haven’t caught up.”

Lina yanked her hand back as if she’d been burned. Her eyes grew wide as she took on an accusatory tone. “I thought about it for quite some time,” she said. “When we first met, you told me you were bound to something – that you’d be chasing that thing for the rest of your life.”

“Lina–”

“I thought it might have been recognition,” Lina continued, a tear falling down her cheek. “Or maybe money. Perhaps it was even sex. But it was Henriette. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Not anymore,” Giacomo said. “It’s over now.”

“Not because you want it to be,” Lina said. “For you, it will never be over. You’ve done so much; made your fortune in Paris, courted me, took your place in the Bragadin family … all for Henriette. You’re still chasing her.”

“I’m telling you, I’m not!”

“Do you still love her?!”

“I …” Giacomo rasped. “I can’t.”

“You shouldn’t,” Lina said, her tears falling freely. “But you do.”

“That will change,” Giacomo said, his voice unsteady. "It has to."

“It’s been almost ten years since you left Venice,” Lina whispered. “I highly doubt that.”

“Henriette moved on,” Giacomo said, attempting to lift the corners of his mouth. “If she can move on, so can I.”

Lina's features twisted. “I am not a consolation prize.”

“I never said you were!” Giacomo protested. “Lina, I’m telling you the truth when I say that I love you. I believe it’s possible for a man to love more than one woman; and it isn’t as if I’ll ever be unfaithful, so there’s no need for you to worry!”

“Coming from the mouth of an engaged man who would’ve run away with a married woman had she not turned him down!” Lina snapped. She rose from her seat, prompting Giacomo to back away.

“That’s different!” Giacomo said.

“Tell me, Senor Casanova, how highly do you hold the sanctity of marriage?”

“I believe it is a sacred vow,” Giacomo said, attempting not to fall into a trap. “I just had a momentary lapse in my convictions.”

“So aside from Henriette, you’ve never attempted to sleep with a married woman?”

A nervous chuckle escaped Giacomo’s lips. “You know you can’t always believe what you hear.”

Lina's nostrils flared. “Did you or did you not ever sleep with a married woman?”

Giacomo grimaced. “I will admit, my judgement in my youth may have been questionable, but that life is behind me now. You’re the only woman I need!”

“For now,” Lina said, leaving pink streaks behind as she wiped her face. “Until you grow bored. A man can love more than one woman, by your own words.”

Giacomo chided her with a wagging finger. “No! No, I didn’t say that. Don’t twist my words around.”

“You want me to believe,” Lina said, “even though you’ve had sex with married women, attempted to have sex with another while you were engaged, and then only fessed up to the fact when someone forced you to do so … that when you’re married yourself, you’ll be entirely faithful?”

“Yes!” Giacomo said, waving his arms. “Because it’ll be different when _I’m _the one who’s married!”

Lina threw back her head in laughter. The sound was grating, and caused Giacomo’s brow to furrow.

“I really am a fool.” Lina chuckled, wiping her eye. “I’ve heard the stories – I _knew _the name Casanova; I knew what kind of man you were. And yet I was foolish enough to think I would be different because you _loved _me. But I don’t think you love in the same way others do. You view your love as a gift, something to be shared. But that’s not the kind of love I want.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?” Giacomo exclaimed. “The entire bloody world would probably be a whole lot better if people stopped bottling in their desires and just letting everything out! I wasn’t just having sex with women for the sex – I was giving them an opportunity to truly express themselves and their aspirations!”

“Oh, so you deserve a medal for sleeping your way through the Venetian court?!” Lina said with false bravado. “I apologize, Senor, I didn’t realize the altruistic nature of your previous works.”

“I never did anything wrong!” Giacomo said.

“Except for lying about being trained in various professions and sleeping with other men’s wives!”

“Oh, so you’re on Grimani’s side now, is that it?” Giacomo spat.

“And I shouldn’t be? Alex never lied about loving me, then tried to run off with a married woman!” Lina shouted.

Giacomo gesticulated in frustration. “Saying that I love you isn’t a lie! Stop making me repeat myself!”

“Why? Because you feel guilty every time you say it?” Lina said. “Because you know that your heart really belongs to another, and you’re just hoping that if you say it often enough, maybe it’ll become true?!”

“I’m not going to tolerate this,” Giacomo said, turning toward the door.

“Neither am I,” Lina said. “I want you out of my home immediately.”

Giacomo froze. He turned to hit her with a stunned expression. “You can’t be serious – you’re really going to throw everything we have away?”

“I believe you’re mistaken, Senor,” Lina said. “I’m not losing a single thing.”

* * *

Giacomo’s fingers gently caressed the paper. His eyes remained lowered until Edith dared to speak.

“The both of you were fools.”

“Oh?” Giacomo said, raising his eyes. “Interesting; I figured for sure you would side entirely with Lina.”

“She wasn’t completely wrong,” Edith said. “But … having heard the stories, I don’t believe you were ever looking to hurt anyone when you slept with married women. So many of them didn’t have a choice over who to marry, and you gave them an opportunity to use their bodies in a way that was of their own choosing.”

Giacomo had no idea what had happened to Edith in his absence, but whatever it was left his head spinning. “You _actually _agree with me on that?”

“Yes. However,” Edith continued, “even if Lina were to overlook it, I think she was right not to forgive you for Henriette. You attempted to run away from your engagement; I believe anyone would see that as a clear sign the person they were arranged to marry didn’t love them.”

Giacomo shook his head. “But I did love her – that’s the tragedy.”

“Then why just … give up?” Edith exclaimed. “Lina wasn’t married; if you loved her, why didn’t you fight for her?”

“Do I come off as the type of person who ever had to fight for anything in my life?” Giacomo said, leaning back. “Everything always came to me with minimal effort – money, women, professions, influence. The only thing I ever truly worked for turned me away, so what was the point?”

“Because you love her!” Edith said, getting to her feet. “Because the two of you could be happy if you got her back!”

A genuine smile grew on Giacomo’s face. “You sound just like Henriette.”

Edith’s eyes grew wide. “You saw Henriette again?!”

“In a way.”

Edith returned to her seat, eyeing Giacomo up and down.

“My return to Venice after the end of my engagement was about as subtle as a flamenco in a hen house,” Giacomo said. “Back when I had lost Henriette, I had a plan: to make my fortune, clear my name, and win her back. When I lost Lina … I was aimless. There was no need for me to focus on making money, no favors to acquire, no monarchs or nobles to impress. I could do whatever I wanted … so I did.”

The tale had finally circled back to a portion Edith was familiar with, based on her eyes nearly popping out of her head. Giacomo waited with a tickled expression as Edith inhaled sharply.

“The white elephant!”

“The white elephant,” Giacomo agreed, turning the page.

* * *

“Oh Casanova, you rapscallion!” Villars exclaimed, the two-foot tall powdered wig upon his bald head falling askew. “Only you would treat that beast to a vintage finer than what the king calls for at his own bedside!”

“Aw, don’t fret!” Giacomo said, spinning in the massive saddle to hit Villars with a toothy grin. “Old Elenore here won’t mind sharing with you; do you, girl?”

A few quick pats behind the ears prompted the pale elephant to lower her massive trunk into the vat of wine at her feet. Blonde-white lashes blinked lazily as the animal drained the container before lifting its nozzle high above its head. A fountain of pink liquid arced into the crisp night air; party guests exclaimed in surprise and delight as many of the members milling about the wide courtyard were doused in rosé.

The Bragadin estate, as it had turned out, was marvelous for entertaining. The mansion – with its high walls and wide corridors – had been designed to mimic a church. But as it turned out, the open spaces and high ceilings meant to accommodate worshipers and echoing hymns was perfect for twirling dancers and lively music. Giacomo took advantage of this fact often – usually multiple times a week; one couldn’t consider themselves a true socialite of Venice without attending a party hosted by the infamous Casanova. It was rumored that Casanova alone was responsible for parliament taking a three-day hiatus when all of its members had to recover from horrendous hangovers.

“You must forgive me for thinking that Venice was ever anything other than a complete bore during your absence,” Villars said. He watched as Giacomo hooked a foot on a short rope ladder and swung from the elephant’s saddle. The man sauntered toward Villars with a grin as he began undoing the buttons of his now-soaked jacket.

“If you tell every woman here that the elephant is only the _second _largest thing I’ve got,” Giacomo said with a wink. “We’ll call it even.”

“Oh, as if you need the good press,” Villars said, waving airily. A painted eyebrow quirked as a young man trotted up to Giacomo brandishing a pink jacket and a towel. The items were swapped for the wine-soaked garment before Giacomo thanked the man and waved him away.

“Whatever happened to the other one?” Villars said, watching the blond man go. “This one isn’t bad, but the other one was scrumptious.”

“You mean Rocco?” Giacomo said, swinging the fresh jacket over his shoulders. “He decided that living the mundane life of shining shoes and eating table scraps was ‘more respectable’ than all this; good riddance, I say.”

A sound escaped Villars similar to what others would make being served a plate of fish eyes. “Dreadful – reminds me of those who have _children.”_

Red lips pursed as Villars was struck with a thought. “Oh, but not _you _obviously, dear Casanova. Your boy is a bastard, so that hardly counts.”

Giacomo made an agreeable sound as he accepted a glass of wine from a passing server and downed it in one go.

“Is he here?” Villars asked, steadying his wig as he turned about. “If he’s anything like his father …”

“As if I’d let my son anywhere near a scoundrel like you,” Giacomo said, only half joking. “He … Giac stayed in Spain.”

“Presumably for a woman – _several, _perhaps – if the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Giacomo scoffed. His son had indeed stayed for a woman, if not in the certain context Villars was thinking.

“Never lose your heart,” Giacomo said. “Don’t let them take it – makes you act like a bloody damn fool.”

“Lucky for me,” Villars said with a wink. “I never have to worry about a woman taking my heart.”

“Anyone, not just a woman,” Giacomo said, staring off into the distance. “It’s not worth it, I can tell you.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Villars said, delicately accepting two offered glasses of wine from a passing tray. He handed one glass to Giacomo, and the crystal came together in a crisp ‘clink’ as they toasted.

“To Venice,” Villars said.

Giacomo grinned. “To Venice.”

* * *

“You have a guest, Giacomo,” Father Bragadin said, rising from his seat as he watched Giacomo enter the dining room. His statement seemed to have gone unheard as his adopted son fumbled with the silver pot on the long table.

“Coffee,” Giacomo mumbled. “Coffee coffee coffee. Right.”

He poured himself a cup, took a sip, and smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. A dash of cream and three generous scoops of sugar were added before a second attempt was made bringing the beverage to his lips.

Father Bragadin regarded Giacomo’s disheveled appearance with a concerned frown. He exhaled heavily through his nose. “I do wish you would confide in me, dear boy.”

“I almost killed you last time I did that,” Giacomo said, sitting down with a heavy thud. He snatched a roll off the table, cramming it into his mouth. “And I ta to ya nerily erey morni, mid.”

“Well, saying we chat every morning wouldn’t be entirely correct,” Bragadin said, miraculously understanding Giacomo’s muffled speech. “You tend to take your first meal in the afternoon, on most days.”

“Just because I’m not up in the mornings,” Giacomo said. “Doesn’t mean I’m not _up _in the mornings, right? You know what I mean, Father, don’t you?”

“Well … yes. And about all that –”

“Oh, the woman from last night,” Giacomo said. He winked, correcting himself. “The woman from _this morning – _she was … ah … oh bugger, what did she look like?”

“Giacomo,” Bragadin said, fighting for his son’s attention. “The good Lord knows I’m not as practiced in the art of medicine as yourself, but I can’t imagine this sort of lifestyle is good for your health.”

“It’s fine! I’m getting plenty of exercise!” Giacomo exclaimed, grabbing another roll off the table. “I drink _loads _of liquids, and I’m in bed by a reasonable hour. Actually, I’m in bed by _a lot _of reasonable hours.”

Bragadin cleared his throat. He decided to switch topics by bringing up the elephant in the room – which was, coincidentally, the elephant in the courtyard.

“Another thing, while I have you – that pet of yours, while being a lovely creature of a fine temperament, she’s … well … rather expensive to maintain.”

“Say no more,” Giacomo said, washing down his bread with a swig of coffee. “I’ve had this idea floating around, anyway – I’ll take Elenore ‘round town and charge for rides. People will be lining up from all over! She’ll more than pay her keep that way for sure.”

The color drained from Father Bragadin’s face. “I … oh … I … I can’t imagine the police would be understanding of such an endeavor …”

“No worries!” Giacomo said, throwing up his hands. “I just give them a little something to look the other way, and we’re back in business! No harm, no foul!”

“Giacomo!” Bragadin said, shocked. “You can’t talk to me about such things as bribery and corruption!”

“Why not?”

“I’m a _priest!”_

“Oh,” Giacomo said, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, right – forgot about that.”

Father Bragadin stepped over to the other end of the table. He held out his arms, motioning for Giacomo to stand. The other man reluctantly did so, and Father Bragadin enveloped him in a tight embrace.

“You’re loved, my boy,” Bragadin said into his shoulder. “By both myself and the good Lord – do remember that.”

Giacomo mumbled an affirmative, patting Bragadin on the back.

“Now then,” Bragadin said, regarding Giacomo as he grasped him by the shoulders. “Like I mentioned before, you have a guest.”

“What? When’d you say that?”

“Before your coffee.”

“Oh, well,” Giacomo said. “Can’t blame me for not rememberin’ anything before then.”

“Get yourself cleaned up,” Bragadin said, giving Giacomo a pat on the cheek. “He’s an old friend that I’m sure you’ll be just as delighted to see as I was.”

Giacomo’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

Bragadin urged Giacomo toward the door with a clap to his shoulder. “Get cleaned up, lad.”

Giacomo regarded Father Bragadin with suspicion, but headed toward the door leading upstairs. He stopped as he stepped into the hallway, smiling.

“Ooh! That’s why I couldn’t remember – everything was all blurring together. Ah, yes – head on in for breakfast and have whatever you like.”

A raven-haired woman in a disheveled gown stepped into the dining room as Giacomo disappeared around the corner. Father Bragadin forced a smile and nod in greeting, but the expression left his face as a red-headed woman entered on her heels. He started to sputter an invitation for them to sit, but words left him entirely when a blonde woman followed them in.

* * *

The person waiting for Giacomo in the sitting room was certainly not someone he would’ve considered an ‘old friend.’ A ‘friendly acquaintance,’ was probably a better term.

Ruiz de Alcado politely rose from his seat upon Giacomo’s arrival, offering his hand. Giacomo took it, exchanging a few clipped pleasantries before taking a seat.

“This is curious,” Giacomo said, deciding there was no point beating around the bush. “I thought all my dealings with the Jilani family had come to a rather abrupt close as of four months past.”

Ruiz offered a sad smile. “Yes, I was disheartened to hear of the dissolving of your engagement to Hidalga Verona. But it’s understandable, considering the circumstances.”

Ruiz’s reaction was puzzling, and Giacomo was about to comment on it when the man’s smile turned more positive. A letter was produced from his jacket, and Giacomo hesitantly accepted the parcel.

“What’s this?”

“Your contract,” Ruiz said. “As of the last deal closed six weeks ago, you aided Jilani Shipping Company in attaining nine multi-million-peso agreements spanning the course of one to three years. Once the paperwork is authorized and submitted, you will begin seeing your seven-percent cut of Jilani Shipping’s profits deposited into an account of your choosing on a monthly basis from now until the foreseeable future.”

Giacomo nearly lost his grip. He fumbled with the stack of papers, flipping them open. His eyes danced over the text, his brows rising beneath his hairline as he flicked through the pages.

“This is really it,” he mumbled. “This is actually the contract we agreed upon.”

“Yes, and it’s well deserved,” Ruiz said. “I can only hope I can live up to your reputation as a sales negotiator in the Americas. Hidalga Verona has her eye on garnering business for sugar cane and tobacco, which will be an entirely new expansion of routes along the Atlantic.”

“She’s sending you to the Americas?” Giacomo asked, surprised. “That’s an awful long way to go. Will you be staying there permanently?”

“Ah, yes, it will be quite the adventure for my family and I,” Ruiz said agreeably. “We’ll be traveling in one of our ships built with luxury quarters – I told my wife we should count ourselves lucky the Hidalga will be in attendance, or else the lady would’ve packed us in a box!”

Ruiz found his joke leagues more amusing than his companion. His chuckling died down as he took in Giacomo’s expression. “Senor?”

“She’s leaving?” Giacomo said, his voice coming out like a croak. “For the Americas? Forever?”

Ruiz’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Uh … yes, Senor. That was the entire reason your engagement was called off, no? The Hidalga stated that your father was unfit for the journey, and you both agreed it would be best to suspend the engagement in lieu of other opportunities.”

Despite himself, Giacomo laughed. He squeezed his eyes closed, doubling over and slapping his knee in his merriment. Ruiz – having now bore witness to not one, but two of Giacomo’s manic laughing fits – was beginning to get the impression that there may have been more to the engagement being disbanded than meets the eye.

“It’s … it’s so …” Giacomo wheezed, fighting for air. “It’s so … pragmatic! Ending our engagement is just checking off a box or dotting an ‘i!’ She couldn’t say that it had anything … anything to do with …”

Lina’s face swam before his eyes – her long hair flowing in waves from where he’d pulled it from her braid. She was crying, and telling him for the first time that she loved him.

“Of course she was lying,” Giacomo said, staring at the hardwood floor. “Of course she wasn’t telling the truth when she said she wasn’t losing anything by asking me to leave.”

“Ah …”

Giacomo raised his eyes. Ruiz was nervously drumming his fingers over his knees as he regarded Giacomo with a nervous expression.

“What do I need to do?” Giacomo asked, indicating the papers with little vigor. “For that?”

“Oh!” Ruiz said, grateful Giacomo again appeared sound. “We’ll just need to have them signed in the presence of a notary, then I’ll take my copies back to Spain and you can have yours held by yourself and the bank.”

Giacomo stared at him for some time, but the other man got the impression that he wasn’t really being seen.

“How long will you be in Venice?” Giacomo asked.

“Until the end of the month, Senor,” Ruiz said. “I’ll be visiting other contacts, but I’ll be staying at the inn just on the edge of the park nearby, for your convenience. Do you know it?”

“Yes,” Giacomo said. “I know it.”

“Very good, Senor,” Ruiz said, getting to his feet. He seemed to be in a hurry to make his departure for a reason that Giacomo couldn’t blame him for.

“I’ll call upon you when I’m ready,” Giacomo said, remaining seated. He cleared his throat, looking up at the man. “Thank you.”

Ruiz nodded amicably. “Congratulations, Senor Casanova. You’re about to be a very rich man.”

“I’m already a very rich man.”

“Oh no, Senor,” Ruiz said, his smile widening. “Not at all.”

Ruiz showed himself out. Giacomo stared after him, remaining that way for some time. When he finally moved, it was to pick up the contract, set it down, then pick it up again. He studied it for a moment before tossing the papers back on the table. He imagined Lina laughing, her eyes sparkling.

_‘I guarantee you couldn’t afford me, Senor Casanova.’_

Giacomo had hit her with a wink.

_‘Money isn’t everything.’_

“You bitch,” he muttered. “You made me hate money.”

* * *

When he closed his eyes, he saw the ocean.

It was an ocean of green speckled with splashes of red and purple – drooping stalks of grass rubbing against one another in a low hiss like a chorus of a lady’s skirts. Wildflowers bobbed their heads, nodding to one another as if in a constant state of greeting. The sky was the type of grey that promised shade more than showers, and the cool air filled his lungs with the smell of earth and wanderlust.

This was the place he saw every night, so Giacomo stopped sleeping.

When his eyes were open, an array of colors swirled and ran together like paint on a canvas. Men roared in laughter, women squealed in delight – crystal glasses were stacked and Champaign poured between them in sparkling waterfalls.

On this particular evening, best of all; this party wasn’t one of his. It wasn’t as if Giacomo ever had to lift a finger for cleanup, but it did save him the concerned looks from Father Bragadin.

It was a masquerade – a favorite theme that constituted party-goers acting more freely than they normally would. Giacomo found it comical people tended to think they could get away with just about anything with a thin piece of cloth around their eyes. One would have to be daft not to recognize someone with only half their face obscured, but it really came down to the unsaid rule of feigned ignorance surrounding such affairs.

And so Giacomo, who wore a simple black mask with silver threading, pretended to be surprised when a companion brought up a party at the Bragadin manor where dancing girls from the Indies with their bare midriffs and pierced noses were brought in to twirl about to the beat of drums. Another man mentioned the time Casanova himself climbed onto the roof in a recreation of his escape from his jail cell.

“That Casanova has to be mad bugger!” Giacomo exclaimed. “Whatever will he think of next?”

This elicited a wave of laughter among his companions.

“Something impressive, I’m sure!” a man in a peacock mask said, lifting his drink. “The man lives to entertain!”

“You’ve been blessed,” Giacomo said, taking a sip of his own drink. “What all would you do otherwise?”

“We’d be at home with our wives, dying of boredom,” a portly man quipped. This provoked another surge of laughter.

Giacomo blinked, and suddenly found himself standing in a field. He was holding a rock, for some reason; it was smooth, round, and he was certain it was the type Iago used to fit into his sling before flinging the object high into the air. A frown settled on Giacomo’s face as he studied it, and with a shrug he pulled back his arm. He threw the rock into the sky, watching it disappear into the clouds.

The sound of a window smashing brought him back to the party with a start. The mask around his eyes blocked his peripheral, so Giacomo had to turn his head side-to-side to take in the stunned expressions of the men and women either regarding the shattered window, or himself. He suddenly became very distinctly aware of the fact that his wine glass was inexplicably missing.

“Opa!” a voice cried.

Glass skittered over the tile as a silver plate flew threw another window. Cries of surprise shifted to ones delight as more wayward objects proceeded to demolish the windows of whatever noble was unlucky enough to be hosting a party where Giacomo Casanova invented a destructive new trend.

Giacomo was shaken by the shoulders and given pats on the back as his companions tittered in amusement. He returned their cheerful expressions, trying to stay focused on the faces seemingly melting and churning together in a way that made it more difficult than it should’ve to tell who was who.

“Hey.”

Giacomo turned. The woman in red behind him clasped his hand with a smile. She pulled away with a nod before turning and dissolving into the crowd.

“Eh …”

Giacomo looked down at this hand. A slip of folded paper sat in his palm, badly crumpled and curling at the edges. He pinched the corners to reveal a single line of neat, loopy handwriting. It was a script he recognized immediately – one he had seen a few months back inviting him to an abandoned office. Adrenaline whacked his senses into a heightened form of clarity.

_‘What now?’_

He stared at the words. His eyes snapped up, scanning the room for any sign of the mysterious woman in red.

_What now?_

“I don’t know,” Giacomo mumbled. His voice was swallowed up by the sound of shouts and breaking glass.

_You do know._

“I don’t,” Giacomo whispered, eyes wide. “I really don’t – I don’t have a plan.”

_Then figure it out, you daft buffoon._

“Oi,” Giacomo said, a frown touching his lips. The inner voice didn’t seem phased in the slightest.

_Let’s go home, yeah?_

Giacomo didn’t need to ask to know that the Bragadin estate wasn’t what the voice meant. He let out a sigh that he felt like he’d been holding in for months.

“Yeah, alright.”

There probably would’ve been more of a scene had people known this would be the last ball in Venice ever to be graced by Giacomo Casanova’s presence. But as it were, the man strolled out of the party with little fanfare, tossing his black mask to the dirt as he stepped into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

“What in the world is that look?” Giacomo asked, resting his chin in his hand. He regarded the young woman seated across from him with a steady expression while he waited.

“You went after her,” Edith said, regarding him in awe. “You really did.”

Giacomo leaned back in his chair. “You’ve heard tales of me chasing countless women – is it really so surprising?”

Edith laughed as if he’d made a joke before hitting him with a knowing smile. The smile was returned, although there was a hint of something less pleasant laced through it.

“You seem very pleased for someone who knows where this must be headed,” Giacomo said.

“I know, but–” Edith paused to collect her thoughts. “… but you tried, Sir Casanova. I’m glad you didn’t let her go without at least trying.”

It was hard for Edith to decipher Giacomo’s thoughts behind his neutral expression. The old man cleared his throat and brought himself forward in his chair.

“Where was I?” he asked, dropping his gaze as he ran a finger over the page.

“You were on your way to Spain,” Edith said, regarding the man with a fond expression.

“Not quite,” Giacomo said. “No, I had to get things in order first – beginning with paying a certain someone a visit.”

“Who?”

Giacomo grinned. “Someone who was far from thrilled to have me calling.”

* * *

“How did you get through the door?!” Grimani exclaimed, pounding down the steps as he approached the landing.

_“Loads _of money,” Giacomo replied. He stood in the threshold of the Grimani manor, attempting (and failing) at seeming innocent with his hands folded behind his back. “And I said please.”

Grimani’s features set in a scowl. “You will leave here immediately.”

“Not before I have a word.”

“You have no business calling upon Henriette,” Grimani said.

“She’s not the one I came to see.”

Grimani’s descent down the gleaming marble steps faltered. He regained his balance against the railing, staring.

“I’m lucky you happened to be in Venice on holiday,” Giacomo said, his eyes wandering about the grand entryway. “Although I suppose the god of fate has always had a shining to me.”

Grimani seemed at a loss for words. He swallowed, finding his voice. “That’s blasphemy.”

“Well,” Giacomo said, raising his brows. “Technically, the one true God is the God of _everything, _so they can also be the god of fate, I reckon.”

Grimani took a slow step forward, then another. He was soon at the bottom of the stairs, but didn’t seem keen on venturing any further. “What business do you have here, Casanova?”

“I need to ask you a question,” Giacomo replied.

It took Grimani far longer than what his guest thought necessary to internally debate whether he should humor Giacomo’s request or have him tossed out on the street. When the man finally made a decision, he rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“What is it?”

Giacomo cleared his throat, adjusting his posture. “How did you do it?” he asked. “How did you make your wife love you?”

Anger flashed behind Grimani’s eyes. “How da–”

“I don’t mean Henriette, specifically,” Giacomo said. “Sorry – I may have worded that poorly. What I meant to ask was: how did you get a woman who is – by any and all definitions – far above your undeserving station to show you favor?”

The corner of Grimani’s mouth curled up in a nasty grin. “Is this your way of getting back at me? Pestering me with insults in my own home?”

“If that was an insult,” Giacomo stated. “Then it was self-depreciating.”

A more neutral expression returned as Grimani eyed him up and down. “Lina?”

“That’s the one.”

“Are you really so much of a fool to ask _me _how to win Lina’s favor?” Grimani said, incredulous.

“Well, you did the impossible, from where I stand,” Giacomo said. “And I’m _far _more handsome and charming and generally likeable than you are – so if you can do it; I figured, why can’t I?”

Grimani’s sneer returned. “I bid you a good day, Senor Casanova.”

“I’m sure she hated you,” Giacomo said. This caused the smile to fall from the other man’s face.

“When you sent me to prison, I’m sure your wife hated you for it. Maybe it got a little better after I escaped, and she didn’t feel so guilty, but I’m sure any and all vision Henriette had of you being a kind and generous man was gone the second you disrupted our engagement party and had me taken away.”

A muscle in his neck twitched as Grimani set his jaw. He stared at Giacomo for some time before speaking. “I’m sorry for having done that to you.”

Giacomo shook his head as if he’d been slapped. “Come again?”

“You were technically guilty of everything you’d been charged with,” Grimani said. “But the intent behind your imprisonment was for a private matter that I should’ve handled on my own account without getting the courts involved. The judiciary system should never be used to extrapolate punishment on personal matters, and I did both a disservice to your reputation and to my honor by doing so.”

“You’re _apologizing?” _Giacomo said, the shock adding an unnatural squeak to his tone. “Do you know something? Are the end times upon us? Should I bugger out of here and start copulating with every woman I see before I run out of time?”

“You know,” Grimani said, crossing his arms. “I’ve always hated it when you try to be funny.”

“Well, that’s more a reflection on you than it is me,” Giacomo said. He grinned as Grimani’s eyes narrowed. “But your apology has been accepted, and I think you just answered my question.”

Grimani’s expression grew puzzled. “How so?”

“Well,” Giacomo said, indicating his companion with a wave. “Looks like you decided to stop being an asshole. You saw the error of your ways, and changed to better yourself into a decent human being; funny how it seems like the trick was something so simple.”

Grimani scoffed. “You honestly think it was that easy? Do you have any idea how much about yourself you’d need to change to get a woman of morals like Lina running back to you?”

“Everything about myself that I hate,” Giacomo said. “Which is more than I’d like to admit – I lie, I cheat, I take advantage of others and put my own desires before there’s. I’ve spat on the authority of the educational system and the courts alike; and I’ve even stolen candy from a baby. But it wasn’t like they were going to appreciate it fully, anyway.”

Grimani rolled his eyes as Giacomo watched him with a tickled expression.

“I also have a tendency to undermine situations that should be taken more seriously,” he continued. “And worst of all – my work ethic only goes as far as acquiring instant gratification. I’ve never had to work for something over the long term – _especially _not something that has a high rate of failure – and quite frankly I’m petrified to start.”

Giacomo was hit with a curious expression.

“Did you not work for years to try and win back Henriette?” Grimani asked.

“Aw, no,” Giacomo said with a wave. “I wouldn’t call that _work – _not really. I was floating along by the seat of my pants as I always had. If I had really tried to _work, _really tried to put any sort of critical thinking into it …”

Something melancholy tinted Giacomo’s smile. “… then I would’ve come to the conclusion that I was slowly poisoning myself by not letting her go. That’s probably the entire reason I never really dwelled on the fact.”

Grimani fell into another one of his long silences. It did nothing short of leaving Giacomo wishing to pull out his hair in frustration, but he settled instead for tapping his foot on the tile as he waited.

“Why Lina?” Grimani finally asked. His brows rose in surprise as his companion beamed.

“I’m sure it’s no surprise that people fancy me,” Giacomo said. He winked at Grimani’s annoyed expression. “Well, _most _people. They fancy me because I’m entertaining and outrageous and a representation of all their innermost desires they can live vicariously through. There’re only a handful of people in my life who see me for more than that, and only two who judged me by my potential.”

Giacomo held up two fingers. “The first was someone who helped lift me up when I was down. But the thing was, we were _too _much alike. So much so that she knew what was coming, and that throwing her life away for a man like me would only lead to heartache down the line.”

Two fingers became one. “Then came someone who didn’t know any better – someone who for some inexplicable reason saw worth in a penniless beggar with a reputation for chasing women and losing money. She didn’t care if I had no ambition, because she had more than enough for the two of us. What mattered to her were the results of my actions – whether they be in business or personal affairs. Perhaps it’s unfair, considering the difference between their circumstances, but I found a woman who could soar on her own without needing me to lift her up. She’s already above the clouds, and now I just need to start climbing the mountain.”

Giacomo chuckled as if he’d surprised himself. “She’s stubborn – she had no poise; no grace. She can only hold a conversation when it’s about someone else or a mind-numbingly boring topic like trade routes, and when she’s been crossed her tongue can bite like morning frost.”

Blue eyes focused on a corner of the room, seemingly lost in thought.

“But?” his companion ventured.

“But,” Giacomo said, his gaze locking with Grimani’s, “I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything.”

Grimani sized him up like a general scrutinizing the suitability of how an inferior officer donned their uniform for inspection. “Actions speak louder than words, Casanova.”

“Which is why I’m going to hop on a horse the second I leave this household and ride nonstop until I make it to Spain.”

Grimani nodded in thought. He inhaled sharply through his nose, his face already betraying the regret of the decision he’d yet to voice. “If you can wait until the morrow, I will be returning to my post in England. I can have the coach make a detour along the way.”

Giacomo frowned. “Why? It’s not like I can’t acquire one of my own.”

“It’s not the coach that you need,” Grimani explained. “It’s me.”

“You?”

“Like you said,” Grimani said, placing his hand on Giacomo’s shoulder in more of an effort to turn the man toward the door than in an act of solidarity, “Lina can be a stubborn woman.”

Giacomo’s eyes widened in amazement. “You … you’re going to _help me?!”_

“Get your affairs in order, Casanova,” Grimani said, guiding him over the threshold. “The coach will be outside the Bragadin estate at daybreak tomorrow.”

The door was closed in Giacomo’s face before he could utter any sort of thanks. He took a few steps back, staring up at the building. There was a flutter of curtains on the second story, and the corner of his lip quirked up.

“He knew about the note, didn’t he?” he said. Giacomo’s smile widened. A chipper whistle escaped his lips as he crossed the courtyard and started the first step in his long journey home.

* * *

“He wasn’t really a bad man,” Edith whispered.

“No more than I was, at least,” Giacomo agreed, turning the page. “The journey to Spain wasn’t really of much note – just the pair of us going between coaches and ferries before making it to the port in Barcelona. I will take credit for the fact, however, that his time with me was the reason Grimani started prematurely going grey.”

Edith looked unamused. Giacomo chuckled. His eyes returned to the book, his finger resting at the top of the page.

“When I finally caught up to her, I discovered that Lina was now expecting a new member to the Jilani household.”

“What?!” Edith said, her knuckles turning white as she grasped the desk. “But you two didn’t sleep together!”

“Just because it wasn’t written here,” Giacomo said with an innocent smile, “doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“It most certainly does!”

Giacomo hummed, then began to read.

* * *

It was the largest ship Giacomo had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but to be in awe as he stood atop the deck and craned his head back to regard the mast towering overhead. He pondered what forest may have produced the wood, considering he couldn’t say he’d even witnessed a tree reaching nearly as high. There was a person on board who could certainly answer that question, although he figured now would be a bad time to approach her with the subject.

“Sir?”

Giacomo turned his head. His face broke into a grin as a familiar figure came bounding up to him. “Rocco Scapino, as I live and breathe! How are you, you old devil?”

“Right surprised to see you here, for one,” Rocco said. His eyes danced to the wide set of doors leading below deck. “You here to see the Hidalga?”

“Who else?”

Rocco crossed his arms as he shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t privy to all the details, but the man surely knew enough about what had happened to be wary. “Something wrong with the contract?”

“Yes,” Giacomo said, his smile turning coy. “There was a stipulation in it that the other party is refusing to honor.”

Rocco raised his brows. This elicited a laugh from his former employer and a hearty slap on the back.

“How’ve you been, Rocco? Don’t tell me you’re headed off to the new world, yourself?”

“Oh, like hell I would!” Rocco said. “You ain’t catchin’ the likes of me being cooped up on a boat for weeks on end. Nah, I’ve still got a cushy position at the Jilani estate. The missus wouldn’t abide by the trip, besides.”

Giacomo’s jaw dropped. _“The missus?!”_

Rocco beamed. He looked over his shoulder, cupping a hand around his mouth. “Oi, Esmee! Come meet my best mate!”

The sound of quick footfalls heralded the arrival of a figure ascending the ship’s ramp. A woman in a ruffled blue smock appeared, her green eyes dancing with delight as a large grin adorned her face. She was, physically, one of the most stunning women Giacomo had ever seen – blonde hair escaped her bun in wisps that tickled across the freckles speckling her face, and a full bosom bounced with every energetic step. As the woman came to a stop, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of joke.

“Eh …” Rocco said, scrunching his brow. “dit is om je te informeren dat Giacomo Casanova.”

“Oh!” Esmee exclaimed. “Een genoegen u te ontmoeten! Rocco heeft me zoveel over je verteld!”

“Ah,” Giacomo said, smiling sheepishly. “What?”

“It’s Dutch,” Rocco said. “Still learnin’, myself.”

“Wait,” Giacomo said, furrowing his brow. “You married her, and you two can’t even understand one another?”

“A love like ours needs no words,” Rocco said, gripping Esmee’s hands. The woman tilted her head, looking lovingly into Rocco’s eyes.

“I was smitten the moment I saw her tendin’ to the chickens in the neighbor’s garden. I worked up the courage to approach her, and the rest was history.”

“No,” Giacomo said, looking between the two with a puzzled expression. “I really feel like I’m going to need some sort of explanation here.”

“Casanova.”

The group turned to regard the man standing in the threshold of the lower deck. Grimani raised a hand to motion Giacomo over.

“What the bloody hell is he doing here?!” Rocco said.

“Long story,” Giacomo said, giving his friend a pat on the shoulder before jogging over to Grimani. Based on the expression of the other man’s face, things weren’t looking good.

“She’ll see you.”

“She will?” Giacomo said, relieved. “The look on your face just now had me thinking we may’ve come all this way for nothing.”

“We still may have,” Grimani said. There was a hint of emotion to his voice that left Giacomo surprised the man seemingly possessed more sympathy toward his plight that he thought. Touched, Giacomo smiled.

“Thank you, Grimani.”

Grimani acknowledged the thanks with a nod before motioning for Giacomo to descend the stairs. The suggestion was quickly acted upon as Giacomo pounded down the sturdy wooden steps. There was a splash of light coming in from the door cracked open at the end of the long hall, which Giacomo immediately headed for.

The door was swept open with a dramatic bang. Giacomo stood – chin up, shoulders back – as he regarded the woman in the spacious quarters standing behind the wide desk. His confident pose, however, immediately crumbled as he took in her appearance.

“You’re …” he said, voice wavering.

“I’m what?” Lina said, putting down a stack of papers to lean against the desk.

“You’re …” Giacomo repeated, his eyes wandering downward.

“You’re wearing_ pants.”_

* * *

“I KNEW IT!” Edith said, bounding to her feet. This caused Giacomo to break into a round of giggles that took a moment to pass.

“Of course she wasn’t pregnant!” Edith said triumphantly, waving her arms. “You would _never _not write down sleeping with her if it happened! I was absolutely right!”

“Congratulations,” Giacomo said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“So that … so that means …” Edith’s victorious expression fell away. “Wait, who in the world _was _that man?”

“My son?”

“Yes!” Edith said. “But also Lina’s son!”

_“Adopted _son,” Giacomo said.

Edith mouthed the words. Understanding dawned on her face. “Giac.”

“Yes.”

Edith stared at Giacomo, and her shoulders slumped. “Sir Casanova … does that mean he left, too?”

“He did,” Giacomo said.

“I’m so sorry,” Edith said, wringing her hands. “The woman you loved … and your own son … that’s … that’s awful.”

“It was well deserved,” Giacomo said, patting the book, “as you’ve seen.”

“No … but …” Edith said, looking put out. “He’s _your son.”_

Giacomo regarded Edith with a fond expression. “I can’t even imagine the type of man he would’ve grown to be in my care. I may not have agreed with it, at the time, but Giac deciding to stay with Lina was surely for the best.”

Edith’s head snapped up. “You tried to get him to stay?”

“Him and Lina both, obviously,” Giacomo said, returning to the book.

* * *

“You’re wearing_ pants.”_

“Is that really the first thing you’re going to say to me?” Lina asked, hitting him with an incredulous expression.

“I’ve never seen a woman wearing pants before,” Giacomo said, dumbstruck. “It’s incredibly arousing.”

“Get out,” Lina spat.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Giacomo said, averting his gaze. “What I _meant _to say was – I love you with every fiber of my existence, and I’m sorry for everything I did to wrong you, and I want you to marry me!”

Lina blinked owlishly at the flurry of words. “Huh?”

“You broke your end of the deal!” Giacomo said, flourishing a folded stack of papers from his jacket. “This is a contract based on the assumption the two of us were to be wed – and you’re giving me the short end of the stick by backing out of it!”

Lina opened her mouth, but whatever she was about to say died on her lips as a small door connecting to her office slammed open. A smartly-dressed young man stalked into the room with a scowl.

“Giac!” Giacomo said, delighted. “Giac, my boy! Look at you! Growing like a weed, this one.”

“Go,” Giac said, his voice low.

The joy drained from Giacomo’s face. He looked to Lina, wide-eyed. “Tell me you’re not taking Giac.”

“I’m not _taking _anything,” Lina said. “Giac is coming with me by his own volition.”

Giacomo looked back to his son. He regarded the boy with a slack-jawed expression. “He can’t. _You _can’t. Giac, you can’t go.”

Giac didn’t say a word, only crossing his arms as he glared.

“But he has no papers,” Giacomo said, mind whirring. “He’s a bastard – he’d need those, wouldn’t he?”

“He’s not a bastard,” Lina said, lifting her chin. “According to his paperwork, he’s a product of the marriage between myself and a man who was temporarily the head of Jilani Shipping. Since my husband’s untimely death, Giac has been groomed to take his late father’s place as head of the company.”

Giacomo regarded her is disbelief. “You’re _lying?!”_

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lina said. “Every member of this crew will attest that Giac is of my own flesh and blood.”

Giacomo held their stare as he shook his head. “You can’t! You do that, do you hear?! Just because your brothers won’t be around to hide behind, doesn’t mean you can now use _my son _as a shield while running things!”

“You misunderstand, Senor Casanova,” Lina said. “It is no fabrication that Giac is being mentored to become the new head of Jilani Shipping. His _true _successorship of the company may be unrelated to when it’s perceived by others, but your son is not being used as a mere puppet on a string.”

“Like hell!” Giacomo shouted. “He’s only a boy! Of course he’s gonna do whatever you say if you wave enough promises and shiny objects in his face! And what happens if you find yourself a man to act as your new cover across the pond? Giac will be of no use to you then, eh?”

“She’s not like you,” Giac said.

“Oi!” Giacomo said, brandishing a finger. “Don’t talk to your father that way!”

“You’re not my father,” Giac said. “My father wouldn’t have left Spain without even asking me if I wanted to go with him.”

Giacomo regarded his son in offense. “I most certainly did ask!”

“No,” Giac said. “You told me to pack my things, just like how you’ve told me to do anything you wanted without asking if I wanted to, too.” Giac’s hands balled into fists. “And when I didn’t follow, it didn’t even matter – you just left.”

Giacomo’s shoulders slumped. He opened his arms, stepping toward his son. Giac was given a firm squeeze as a hand ruffled his curly hair.

“I’m sorry, Giac. You’re right, I did wrong by you. But I’m not … I’m not going to do that anymore. Never again, understand?”

The only indication that Giacomo wasn’t embracing a statue was the fact that his son’s eyes followed him as he pulled away.

“If you want to do right by me,” Giac said. “Then you’ll go away so I never have to see you again.”

Giacomo smiled as if his son had just told a rather distasteful joke. “Surely, you don’t mean that.”

“And you’ll leave her alone,” Giac said, dark eyes boring into blue. “You’re always fine, but other people’s lives get worse when you’re around.”

Desperation snaked up through Giacomo’s body and out his mouth. “I know. I know! But that’s not why I’m here. I want to do right by Lina; right by you. Please allow me to do that, Giac.”

Giac grabbed Giacomo’s elbow with more force than the man thought his son was capable of. He was wheeled toward the door, then nearly thrown out when Lina spoke.

“Leave him, Giac.”

Giac stopped in his tracks, but didn’t remove the vice-like grip on his father’s arm. He stared at him with an expression that was so detached, it was like they were total strangers.

“The captain said he’d have the ship manifest filled out by now,” Lina said. “Can you please seek him out and give him authorization to get us on our way?”

The grip on Giacomo’s arm loosened in a reluctant manner. Giacomo yanked it back, rubbing the tender flesh as he regarded Giac with a forlorn expression.

“Don’t let him talk you into anything,” Giac said. He sidestepped Giacomo with a withering glare before stalking down the hall. Giacomo turned to watch him go.

“Giac!”

The young man didn’t respond, bounding up the steps and disappearing into the light shining from the top deck.

“Tell him to stay,” Giacomo said, staring down the corridor. “Tell him he can’t go.”

Lina’s voice sounded weary. “I’m not going to ban the most promising employee on this ship from joining me on this venture.”

“He’s my goddamn son!” Giacomo said, wheeling on her. “He’s my family first, and your employee second!”

Lina regarded him in disbelief. “He’s my family as well! And if you’re suggesting I should attempt to force Giac into doing something against his will, then clearly you know nothing about your son at all.”

Giacomo’s nostril’s flared. “I know Giac likes jam on his toast,” he said, “and has no love for the violin but showed some interest in piano. I know that he loves to collect toy soldiers and once swallowed a pearl because he thought it was candy. And I know that I’ve been a terrible father, and that I’ve been trying for years to find a love for him in my heart that I didn’t realize I had until faced with the fact that I may never see him again.”

Lina broke their gaze. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s his decision, Giacomo,” she said. “I won’t stop you if you try to convince him, but I will not have him removed from this ship by force.”

Giacomo wiped his face before putting his hands on his hips. He nodded as he regarded her, his expression hardening.

“I’ll speak to him in a moment,” he said. “But I’m still looking for what I came here for. I want you to fulfill your end of the contract.”

Lina’s eyes snapped to his. She regarded him as if he were accusing her of murder. “Excuse me? I can tell you that all agreements for your compensation are being fulfilled in accordance to what was written.”

“But this contract was inscribed under the pretense that the two of us were engaged to wed,” Giacomo said, picking the wayward papers up from the floor. “I consider it a break in the agreement and a violation of terms.”

Giacomo may as well have slapped Lina across the face. “There’s a clause that–!”

“Verona Bambalina Jilani,” Giacomo said, slamming the papers onto her desk. “I want you to marry me.”

Lina scoffed. “The money is all you’re getting from that contract, Senor – take it and go.”

“I don’t want it,” Giacomo said. It took his companion a moment to register the words.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want the money,” Giacomo repeated. “Give it to Giac; give it to charity – hell, give it to the bloody church, for all I care. I don’t want it – I want you.”

A layer fell away, just for an instant, before snapping back into place. “Then you’re more of a fool than I thought.”

“I’ll come after you,” Giacomo said, staring at her as he leaned over the desk. “I’ll sell everything I have to afford the voyage, and I’ll start anew in the new world if only to be with you.”

“The Americas are a vast land,” Lina said. “I’m sure it would be more than easy enough to lose you.”

A line formed between his brows as Giacomo thought. Something clicked, and he smiled. “Ah. I’m uncharacteristically slow on the uptake when it comes to you. But you’re not the type of woman who likes to be chased, are you? And if that’s the case, I’m going to play hard to get.”

Despite her best efforts, Lina’s anger melted away into confusion. “Huh?”

“For example,” Giacomo said, his posture morphing into his usual relaxed stance. “If you were to ask me to marry you right now, I’d say no.”

Lina raised her brows. “Is that so?”

“Of course not, I love you,” Giacomo replied. “But that’s beside the point – the point is that I’m going to make you chase me, Verona Bambalina Jilani. You’re going to get your papers and letters and whispers of gossip from Europe and they’re all going to be about the admirable exploits of Giacomo Casanova. It’s not going to be about the sex or the parties or the other shenanigans, but about people singing my praises left and right until I’m all you can think about and you can’t handle being away from my side for another second.”

Lina seemed to be watching him as if waiting for a punchline. When none came, her jaw dropped. “You must be aware of how incredibly daft that is?”

“Oh, it’s probably the most ludicrous plan I’ve ever had,” Giacomo said, delivering the statement as if it were anything but. “Well, aside from giving up all that money.”

“You must forgive me if I don’t believe you’ll go through with any of this, even for one bit.”

“That’s understandable,” Giacomo said, nodding. “Which is why I’ll keep you personally updated on my exploits. I know you have reason to distrust my word, but I assure you there will never be anything other than truth in my correspondents.”

“And what makes you think writing you back would even be worth my time?” Lina asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Nothing,” Giacomo said. “I don’t expect you to. The important part is that you know that I will never stop loving you. And one day, I hope, I’m going to be a good enough man to be worthy for you to return that love.”

Lina scoffed. “You had my love, Senor Casanova, and you made it very clear that it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“You’re right,” Giacomo said, his expression shifting to something more solemn. “I made it crystal clear that I, in fact, had no idea what I wanted. I thought I desired Henriette, only to find I desired a fabrication I’d placed on a pedestal so high, no Earthly creature could come close – not even the real Henriette.”

Giacomo’s shoulders slumped. “I refuse to lie to you and say I don’t love her still, or that I never will. But I will tell you the absolute truth when I say that I’ve seen who you are, who you _really _are, Lina, and that I love you more than I’ve ever loved any other woman I’ve encountered in my life.”

Lina looked at him in disgust. “That’s easy enough for you to say.”

“No,” Giacomo said, voice breaking. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say, because I know you’re going to leave me, regardless.”

Something shifted as Lina observed his heartbreaking expression. Her hand moved toward him, slightly, before she thought better of it. Instead, she took a step back and hugged herself as if she’d taken a sudden chill. The action only caused Giacomo’s heart to further ache, and he took it as a sign to take his leave before it all became too much.

“I pray we’ll have the pleasure of meeting again,” Giacomo said, backing away. He bowed to hide the fact that the polite smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you for taking the time to see me, Lina.”

Giacomo turned on his heel, his vision growing blurry as he marched down the hall. He had a feeling if he really tried – if he begged, groveled, and bawled – he could convince Lina to stay. He could convince her to stay for a man who would make her happy, for a while, before recklessly shattering her heart again.

But that wasn’t what she needed.

What Lina needed was the future version of him – a man who’d discovered who he was and what he wanted to accomplish. She needed an equal who could walk with her in tandem instead of needing to be drug along. Giacomo was not that man.

Not yet.

* * *

“And that was the last time you saw her?”

“Yes.”

Edith regarded him with a pitying expression. “Then why say you’re not going to meet her tomorrow, then?”

“Because I’m not there yet,” Giacomo said with a sigh. “I’m still not good enough.”

“But that’s ridiculous!”

“I’m also frightened, if I must admit it,” Giacomo added. “I’m scared I’ve wasted my life chasing a pipe dream that will account for nothing.”

“How can you say that, after all you’ve accomplished?” Edith said in a scolding tone. “After everything you’ve done, do you really feel as if you’ve wasted your life?”

Giacomo smirked. “I’ve probably done enough for two lifetimes.”

“Exactly!” Edith said. “And you even made an honest living, in the end! My father told me toward the end of your life, your winery was quite renowned.”

“Could you please not word that in a way which makes it sound as if I’m already dead?”

“Sorry,” Edith said, fidgeting.

“And what else did your father have to say?” Giacomo said, watching her keenly. “About the ‘later part’ of my life, that is.”

“Um,” Edith said, frowning. “There was a fire.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh, no! There was a fire! Was everyone alright?”

“Everyone was fine,” Giacomo said, smiling. “Although, the fire wasn’t the biggest problem.”

“No?” Edith said, brow furrowed.

“The Bragadin family had many investments,” Giacomo said. “Most of them being in companies that manufactured finished and refined goods for export. That market had been slowly crashing around the time, but it wouldn’t have been much of a problem if the heir of the Bragadin fortune hadn’t been spending money at the same rate a fish breathes water.”

Edith covered her mouth in shock. “So when the estate burned down …”

“There was no money to rebuild it,” Giacomo said, his eyes lowering to the pages.

* * *

“What the hell happened?” Rocco asked, staring at the husk of what used to be a grand manor.

“They think a bedwarmer got knocked into some curtains, or some such thing,” Giacomo said, squinting against the mid-morning sun. Rocco raised his eyebrows, deciding to address the elephant in the room – which turned out to be the elephant standing amicably to their side.

“And nobody thinks it was … uh … _that?” _Rocco asked, tilting his head in the pachyderm’s direction.

“Oh, Elenore? No,” Giacomo said with a dismissive wave. “She wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less burn down a mansion. How’d she go about it, anyway? I already got her to quit smoking.”

Rocco opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “You know what? No – I don’t want to know.”

Giacomo regarded Rocco out of the corner of his eye as his old friend surveyed the damage. His companion kicked aside a blackened chunk of what was probably a door with a shake to his head.

“Thank you for coming, Rocco.”

“Aw, of course,” Rocco said, clapping Giacomo on the shoulder. “Couldn’t help but to do so as soon as I heard. I can help you get back on your feet and all that. You got a plan?”

“Well, considering I’m trying to make an honest living now,” Giacomo said, looking uncertain. “Only one.”

“Yeah?”

“The Bragadin estate owns some land to the west between here and Milan,” Giacomo said. “I’m going to try to farm it.”

“Farm it?” Rocco said. _“You?!”_

“Yeah, I know,” Giacomo said, grimacing. “But that’s just about all I got.”

“You can hardly grow a beard, much less anythin’ worth harvesting,” Rocco said, earning him a glare. “Not alone, anyways.”

Giacomo’s expression softened. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re right,” Rocco said, giving his shoulder another pat. “I don’t – You’re gonna owe me big time.”

Various looks of curiosity and astonishment were garnered (albeit some of that may have been due to the elephant) as they conversed while awaiting Father Bragadin’s return. The old man eventually came into view with Esmee in tow, the pair chatting away in Dutch as they approached.

“Well?” Giacomo asked.

“Not as much from the insurance as I had hoped,” Bragadin said, looking downcast. “But I believe there will be enough for us to build a modest home, then some extra to pay the taxes on the land for a few years … hopefully.”

“No worries! We’ll just live … frugally,” Giacomo said, the last word rolling off his tongue as if it was part of a foreign language he was still learning. “And I’ll make sure you’re comfortable, Father – I owe you that much, so don’t you worry.”

“I’m not worried, my boy,” Bragadin said, gripping his hand. “When I look at you now, I see the man who worked tirelessly at my bedside to bring me back to good health. I haven’t seen that man in you for some time, and I’m overjoyed to have him back.”

Giacomo returned the cheerful expression before pulling the old man into an embrace. His father let out a good-natured chuckle as he was tightly squeezed around the shoulders.

“Alright then,” Giacomo said, pulling away with new vigor. “Everyone hop on – might be a little tight, but I think we can all fit if we balance the luggage between us.”

“Hop on?” Rocco said. “Hop on– oh … Oh no, you daft bastard! You can’t be serious!”

“Elenore’s stables were miraculously unburned,” Giacomo said, swinging one leg through the rope ladder hanging from the animal’s side. “Her saddle is in perfect condition. I think that’s a sign, don’t you?”

“A sign that the bloody beast is probably the reason behind the house burnin’ to the ground, yeah!” Rocco exclaimed.

“You’ll hurt her feelings if you keep talking like that,” Giacomo said, offering to help Bragadin with his ascent. “She’s a delicate lady, Rocco, and you should treat her as such.”

“I’m not riding through the bloody streets of Venice on the back of an elephant!” Rocco said. He sputtered as his wife stepped forward to take Giacomo’s offered hand to hoist her up. “Esmee!”

“Wees niet zo'n watje,” Esmee said, climbing the rope. Father Bragadin let out a barking laugh as Rocco watched in confusion.

“What’d she say?” Rocco said.

“In more polite terms,” Bragadin said. “She told you to get on.”

Giacomo held out his hand, beaming. Rocco looked skyward to mumble a prayer to a God he wasn’t sure was listening, then ambled forward.

* * *

“The day Giacomo Casanova left Venice for good,” Giacomo said, a dreamy look on his face as he regarded the setting sun. “People wrote poetry about my departure, of all things.”

“Well,” Edith said, “it was a rather notable exit.”

“Indeed it was,” Giacomo said with a chuckle. He reached into a side drawer of his desk, rummaging in its contents for a moment before producing a box.

“And you never returned?”

“Not once,” Giacomo said with a sigh. “It wasn’t home, any longer. Which was … both a literal and a figurative description.”

The plain brown box was opened to reveal bundles of folded papers. Giacomo began sifting through them, squinting at the curt information written on the outside before his fingers deftly moved on to the next.

“What are those?” Edith asked.

“I started scribing copies of my letters to Lina,” Giacomo said, seemingly finding what he was looking for as a yellowed piece of paper was pulled free. “I wanted to keep track of what I was sending her to ensure I wasn’t repeating myself.”

Edith’s eyes roved over the contents of the crowded box. “How many letters are there?”

“One for each month since the time we parted,” Giacomo answered, delicately coaxing the letter open.

“Really?” Edith asked, as if her eyes were deceiving her. “How many would that be?”

The question was met with a contemplative hum. Giacomo seemed to be doing some sort of calculation in his head before answering.

“Somewhere in the vicinity of three hundred and seventy-eight, give or take.”

Edith reached out. There was some hesitation to see if she would be dissuaded, but when none came, her fingers gently brushed over the letters.

Soft and brittle paper tickled her fingertips; hues of white and tans and pinks were crammed together and reminded Edith of the delicate layers of a crepe cake she’d had once as a child. The box had a musty smell that reminded her of old books and immediately attached itself to an image of the man sitting across from her.

“Did she write you back?” Edith asked.

“She did.”

Edith’s eyes met his. There was something mischievous to his expression, and Edith immediately deflated.

“What was it?” she asked, her tone reflecting that she wouldn’t like the answer. Edith could hardly say she was surprised when Giacomo lifted the letter she’d given him only a few days ago.

“Do you think she read them?” she said, returning her attention to the box.

“Oh yes.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because she would’ve told me to stop, otherwise,” Giacomo said. “Lina was polite to a fault. A normal woman would have her servants toss my letters before even reaching her. But Lina would never do anything so boorish, and would take the time to make a formal cease and desist request if she wanted them to stop. No, I believe she read every one of these that made it to her doorstep.”

“Oh, Sir!” Edith said, her expression brightening. “That must mean she loves you, doesn’t it?”

Giacomo hummed. “I’ve always had a knack, you know,” he said, his thumb running along the edge of the letter in his hands. “I could tell when a woman loved me, in some way or another – when a woman was _mine. _This is how I knew on the day we parted that Lina did, in fact, still love me despite everything. But that love was … it wasn’t right. It would destroy her, just as Grimani had said. I think that, over time, the love that she held for me changed; what it changed into, though, I cannot say.”

“And yours?”

A smile touched the old man’s lips, and he began to read.

* * *

‘My darling Lina,

This is my first correspondence to you, so I want to make sure I start it off right. To set the mood – and to explain why my script looks like I’m tolerating an earthquake – I’m penning this letter from the back of my trusty stead, Elenore. Elenore is an elephant I acquired from a troupe of dancers from the Indies around a year back, and other than her being unduly suspected of burning down the manor, she’s as sweet as pudding.

Ah yes, the Bragadin estate is no more – burned to a pile of ashes under mysterious circumstances. I was mostly concerned over how my father would handle the loss of his lifelong home, but the old chap is surprisingly resilient. He’s been conducting roadside sermons as our motley crew has traveled, and we’re starting to gain quite the reputation. I suspect it also helps that there’s an elephant.

Rocco and Esmee seem in good spirits, as all newlyweds should, I imagine. Oh yes, you’ll probably be hearing about his resignation shortly if you haven’t already received word. Terribly sorry to be poaching your best talent, but I suppose he just likes me better – can’t be helped.

Not much more to report other than the fact that we’ll be arriving to our destination the day after next. The Bragadin family had owned a large plot of land in the countryside for generations, but this will be the first time any of us will be laying eyes on it. I don’t have a specific plan, exactly … But I’m thinking something with potatoes? People likes those, yes?

I hope you and Giac made it safely to the new world, and that you’re both doing well. Rocco and Esmee also send their best wishes, and Father Bragadin insisted on the same as well even though you’ve never had the pleasure of making his acquaintance. I figured it doesn’t matter, though, since I’m certain the two of you would get along rather well what with you both being big fans of the man upstairs and foreign varieties of tea.

This is the portion of the letter where I pondered pouring out my heart and soul concerning how empty I feel without you, and how I can only hope to one day be filled again by your love. But then I recalled any man could tell you that you have a voice sweeter than a chorus of songbirds, and eyes that shine with a vivacity which attracts those around you like moths to a flame. Any man worth his salt would notice you’re smart as a trap, and could tutor them for ages in equations where they would still not know half of what you do (albeit my fantasy concerning you tutoring me in any subject always ends in a way that would be improper to write in a friendly correspondence).

But any man could say those things. Thusly, I’ll keep any form of flattery brief from here on out, since I’m aware that you’re a woman of action, not words.

Always yours,

Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin’

* * *

‘My darling Lina,

We arrived to the plot of land and discovered very quickly why the previous generations of the Bragadin family turned a blind eye. Most of the land is a hilly, dense conglomeration of shrubs – and what isn’t is rocks. And more rocks. Correction – there are also boulders.

A man crossed our path – wondering about the elephant, understandably – and introduced himself as Orlando Rossi, a neighboring olive farmer. He told us that the land was, sadly, unfarmable due to the rocky soil. He mused that it would take numerous teams of oxen to drag out the boulders over the course of months. The availability of such beasts, not to mention the cost and labor, wouldn’t be worth the effort, he said. The man made plenty of sense, and even offered to buy the land from us for a reasonable sum.

I, naturally, did the sensible thing and told him to fuck off. In a _polite _way, mind you.

We may not have had oxen, but I think we had something a little better.

With all my love,

Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin’

* * *

‘My darling Lina,

There was a bit of a scrap when Elenore got into Orlando’s olive trees. She only ate _half _of one tree, so I was hard pressed to see the huge issue. But while Orlando was there screaming himself blue, I noticed that his land also had a handful of nasty looking stones scattered about. I asked him about it when he paused for some air, and he said that he paid to have oxen drag them out every now and then when he could.

Now get ready, because you’re about to be very proud of me.

I made a very sensible deal having Elenore remove the boulders at three-quarters of the cost of what he was paying for the oxen. She did the work in nearly a fraction of the time, too (all she asks for in return is to graze on the near endless supply of shrubbery on the edge of our land, the little duck). The old boy Orlando had completely forgotten about the tree by then, and had us all over for dinner as a sign of his gratitude.

We were served an exquisite vintage I’d never had before, and Orlando claimed it hailed from a vineyard two days ride south. He mentioned it was a pity there would be no more of it, since the owner had sold the land and was going to have the grapes removed. The place is at the top of a hill, or something, and the new owner wants to plant a giant villa there.

Now, I know I’ve spent far too long in your presence thinking how foolish a person would have to be to throw away a perfectly good business opportunity in favor of a nice view. I’ll bid you to look to the east, and know that I’m shaking my fist in your general direction while I ride south on a rented horse.

Forever yours,

Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin’

* * *

‘My darling Lina,

I built a house!

That was a lie.

I stood by and made noises like I knew what was supposed to go where while some men I hired built a house. I can say I did a fine job at doing that, though.

The grapes have been planted, and Orlando is hopeful that the plants will take well. With the stones gone, the soil doesn’t seem half bad, according to him.

I was also able to acquire most of the equipment needed for fermenting and bottling wine from the same chap who sold me the grapes. He told me the whole spiel on how everything works, and I think I’ve got it down. It’s not nearly as complicated as I thought it would be, which is a relief.

It will, however, be around three years until we start producing wine (as long as the plants take – fingers crossed!). In the meantime, Rocco and Esmee have been doing what they can as hired hands taking care of horses and children and chickens and whatever variety of creatures need taking after. I myself have started tutoring, and giving various advice on medicine when the doctor is traveling. I’m not charging for that one, though, which seems fair considering the mess I got in last time. But it’s still rewarding, all the same.

I miss seeing you. It’s like I’m being haunted by a ghost that flickers in the corner of my eye when I walk through the halls of the villa. I’ll see a figure hunched over a desk in low candlelight, or a flutter of a brown skirt disappearing around a corner. I suppose those are the things I feel should be here to truly make this place my home.

I’ve heard word that you’ve set yourself up in the Pennsylvania colony. Giac’s name is already being floated about as a prodigy in his field. I know a fair bit of this praise can be attributed to you, but I’m sure my son is more than pulling his own weight. He’s a bright boy, and it’s good to hear he’s keeping himself engaged in ventures more reputable than what I was up to at his age. My exploits were more enjoyable, I would imagine, but I can say the only discernible skill I gained from that time was how to climb out a window and leap down two flights without being caught in a woman’s bed.

This leads me to something I’ve been pondering on now for some time. It started, of all things, when I came across Rocco and Esmee sharing lunch on the veranda (yes, I made sure there was a veranda).

As the two of them picked at bread and cheese, Rocco schooled Esmee in how to say various things in Italian. She’s still not very good, bless her heart, but she was so content to simply be there with Rocco. And Rocco, who I’d always known with a sharp nature behind his eyes and an even sharper nature to his tongue, was smiling and laughing and looking at Esmee as if he could be offered all the money in the word and still wouldn’t trade it for the time he was teaching her how to say ‘bread’ and ‘pheasant.’

You’re going to think I’m lying when I say watching them was one of the most mesmerizing things I had ever seen. Can you believe I’ve gone almost forty years of my life and never been in the presence of a married couple who seemed so happy to actually be married?

Well, of course you can. You would tell me it was because I chose to never associate with those types of people, and instead spent my time with the adulterers who were staying out drinking until dawn before inviting me into their beds.

I will not lie to you and say I have no pride in what I did or the man I used to be. I never intended to hurt anyone, and at the time, I believed I was only spreading love throughout a city that desperately needed more. My intentions were pure, even if my actions were not. But I will acknowledge the faults in my logic, and admit I was in fact making a mockery of something that should be held at a high standard.

I can only hope someday everyone will have the wherewithal to marry for love. Love can take a shrewd and impatient man like Rocco and turn him into a kitten; love can take a proud and elitist man like Grimani and turn him into a doting husband and father.

Love has taken me from dirty streets to ballrooms to beds and to castles. Love once had me ask for a hand in marriage even under the impression that the object of my affection was a man. Love blinded and bound me into an obsession over another who was far outside my reach. I never in my wildest dreams imagined love could ever lead me astray, but sadly that was naive.

Just how money isn’t everything, neither is love.

Love is like the vines stretching before my eyes in waves over the hills. It needs to be tended, fed, and occasionally scolded (albeit that last one may not do much outside my own head).

Love can grow, spread, and even die. Sometimes love comes simply, and other times it needs shaping and pruning and plenty of elephant manure.

Sorry, lost the allegory on that one.

To put it simply – our love needed tending, and I wasn’t up for the task. Like your old rose bushes that had undergone a blight, there was a part of me that needed to be cut off to keep it from tainting everything. I couldn’t let go of that piece, and it understandably caused everything to rot.

I am truly sorry.

As I write this, I’m now beginning to see that I’m attaching myself to you and trying to drag you down in the same fashion. You don’t deserve to live your life with a weight around your ankle, and so this will be my last correspondence. Please send my love to Giac, and tell him I’m proud.

Yours truly,

Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin’

* * *

“That was obviously a lie,” Edith said, eyeing the letters.

“Well, I had intended for that to be my last letter, at the time,” Giacomo said.

“What changed?”

Giacomo shrugged. “Nothing in particular – I simply decided I was being a bit overdramatic and moved on. Speaking of moving on, it’s time for you to go.”

Edith’s eyes snapped to the dark window. “Oh, no! I’m supposed to help with washing dishes!”

“Funny, you actually being expected to do things around here every once and awhile,” Giacomo said with a chuckle. Whether or not Edith found this amusing was hard to say since her flurry of ruffled skirts disappeared out the threshold at the tail end of his statement.

“She’s going to be let go, if she keeps going on like that,” Giacomo said. He reached into his desk again, moving aside stray sheets of paper before producing a small tan box. He slid off the lid, frowning at the folded papers within before plucking out a weathered slip that at one point had been a crisp white.

There was a bit of guilt from lying to Edith, but even a man like him had to be allowed some secrets.

* * *

‘Dear Senor Casanova-Bragadin,

For your son’s sake, I hope this letter finds you well. For my sake, I hope your limbs have been gnawed off at an egregiously slow pace by a pack of wild dogs.

Your correspondences are documented as a means to ensure that Giac doesn’t have to plan an overseas voyage in order to claim any sort of inheritance upon your death. For the sake of making it simpler to keep track of whether you are still a member of the living world, please continue your monthly communications.

Sincerely,

Hidalga Verona Jilani’

* * *

‘Dear Senor Casanova-Bragadin,

I too have built a house, albeit not as grand as my home in Spain. There are only two guest rooms, and the ballroom can just barely hold two hundred guests in a comfortable fashion, but it will do for the time being.

Giac and I have been well received within the merchant circles of Philadelphia. There are members from all over Europe, and the topics of vast uncharted territories of forest and gold mines come up often. This place causes a tingle to run over my skin and my fingers to itch for a pen – there is so much possibility I can nearly taste it.

Try not to kill your grapes.

Sincerely,

Hidalga Verona Jilani’

* * *

‘My darling Lina,

Things are going to be different.

Esmee came down for breakfast, calm as a forest pond, and said something to Father Bragadin as she sat. My father nearly spat his porridge over the table in a fit. Rocco and I had entirely forgotten she’d even said anything, over our concern for my father’s health, and it wasn’t until he was able to wheeze out a statement that even more pandemonium ensued.

Apparently, Esmee is expecting. Rocco is over the moon, and is going on non-stop about building an entire extension to the house. I told him he can take my study, and that I _certainly _don’t trust his carpentry abilities, but he’s insisting. Hopefully I’ll be able to talk him out of it before a structure not even worthy of keeping an ass is attached to the rear end of my home.

The first batch of wine should be due around the time the baby comes along. I’ll ship some to you when I can.

The wine, not the baby, obviously. But if you _do_ want a baby, you’ll know where to find me.

Sorry, terrible joke.

With all my love,

Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin’

* * *

‘Dear Senor Casanova-Bragadin,

The carpenters from Venice should be arriving to your vineyard within a fortnight for the expansion of your home. Rocco was a valued employee of the Jilani family, and did us great service as his time running the household. This is the least that can be done in terms of compensation.

Also, please do mention the elephant every now and then because I worry when she isn’t mentioned.

Sincerely,

Hidalga Verona Jilani’

* * *

‘My darling Lina,

Included with this letter is a bottle of our first batch of merlot. Before you ask about the label, let me tell you how we named two things in one day:

Rocco, Father Bragadin, and I were finally able to test the first batch, and I must say that it came out quite satisfactory. Rocco was certain it was going to be a disaster, and I stupidly taunted fate by claiming that things always had a knack for turning out right for me in the end.

This is when Esmee came stumbling in, her hand on her belly and looking at us like the world was about to split apart. Well, for her I suppose it sort of was.

The doctor was, as per my flippant comment, three days ride away tending to a case of dysentery. There was only one among us who had any sort of medical know-how, and I’m sure you can make a valid guess as to who.

Whoever coined it ‘the miracle of birth’ is a bloody fucking liar and they’d do well with having their head bashed in. The only miraculous thing about it was that I was able to keep myself from fainting, and that despite my eyes being firmly shut, the baby fell right into my outstretched hands. I suppose there was also another miracle that I didn’t catch a fever when I completely striped down and plunged into the nearby river to scrub the muck off me until my skin was raw.

Oh, Esmee did well, too.

Rocco and Esmee welcomed Kadri Lorenzo Scapino into this world on the 14th of May with all the correct number of fingers and toes and a little pecker and whatnot. I thought it was a fine name, so I asked Esmee if she had another fine name for the wine. She, understandably, looked at me like I was mad, but then her positivity shone through and she gave me another name:

Beste Dwaas

And that, my love, is how I now produce a wine from Italy, with a Dutch name, and a white elephant from the Indies gracing the label. This is also how said wine was named after myself, since I am, in fact, a ‘dear fool.’

Yours always,

Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin

P.S.

Elenore is getting fat on shrubs and lack of boulders to keep her fit, but I would assume the old girl is just as happy about the newest addition to our family as we are.’

* * *

‘Dear Giacomo,

A shipment of tea from East India Trading was destroyed in the Boston harbor. I will only say that I believe you know what my feelings are on the fact, and that I’m already in the process of working with vendors to fill the new demand.

Things are changing here at a rapid pace. You will notice an update to my address, since we will be relocating to a house in New Hampshire. I’m reluctant to leave my home, since I have become quite accustomed to Pennsylvania and the connections I’ve made there. But Giac worries me with his talk, and Heaven forbid he gets mixed up in the brewing tensions.

There might be some time before I am able to send word again. I will promise you that whatever happens, I will keep Giac safe.

Wishing you and yours well,

Hidalga Verona Jilani’

* * *

‘My darling Lina,

I’m sure this crate of my latest vintage will find you well, since I’m sending it with your company. I figured you would want to share the wealth, considering the American revolutionaries were successful. I can assume, of course, that you were on their side, considering the free market their kind always seem to be going on about.

Kadri is a ball of sunshine just like his mother, and Esmee has taken to spending less time in the fields as she looks after his younger brother. Rocco has suggested hiring another hand or two, which I’m beginning to lean into since we still have plenty of space to be cleared for more vines.

Elenore’s days of pulling out boulders has long past, but she seems to be content in her retirement. Her and my father both are prone to spending afternoons napping in the shade behind the house.

It’s beautiful here, Lina. I hope one day you’ll get to see it.

With all my love,

Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin’

* * *

‘Dear Giacomo,

You should find a drawing accompanying this letter since I hired an artist to do a quick rendering of the ceremony. It looks a little unpolished, but it was the best that could be done without Giac noticing.

His new bride is a treasure, and I’m blessed to have Maryanne become a member of our household. She can be a bit demure, for my taste, but I believe enough time with me will have her standing up for herself when Giac tries to imply that he knows the best way to run a household. He’s a strong-willed man, but I suppose I can only blame myself for such. We’re beginning to butt heads more often over company policies, but I do enjoy the debates he brings to the table.

We’ve begun expanding the business to include ground and river transportation out west. We have boats running up and down a great river known as the Mississippi, and the fur trade there is shaping up to be quite profitable. I’ve been keeping myself quite busy, and despite my previous claim of not doing so until I’m ninety, Giac has finally coerced me into adopting bifocals. I suppose I am officially an old woman, although perhaps I will hold off on the term until my first grandchild is born.

Yours truly,

Lina’

* * *

‘My darling Lina,

I believe the day has finally come for my retirement. In a few years’ time, Kadri will know more than enough to take over the vineyard, and Rocco has voiced his desire to keep running things until then.

Remember when you told me once how you missed having a turbulent household? I can say now that I finally understand. Things have quieted down as the children have grown older, and the empty chair by the fire where my father used to sit only causes my heart to ache. I won’t be able to visit his grave as often, if I leave, but I’m sure he’ll forgive me as long as I continue to be a good son and act in ‘Godly ways’ – as he’d put it.

Elenore is still plodding along, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the old girl outlives us all.

I think I’m going to go somewhere quiet and pen my life story. I recall nearly every facet, and I feel it would be a shame for it not be shared.

Now, now – I can already see you rolling your eyes at me, and I’ll have none of that, you cheeky girl.

I’ll write about you most favorably, of course, since you are nothing short of perfect in my eyes. I’ll even omit the parts about the snaggle-tooth and stump leg, for the benefit of your good name.

Yours now and always,

Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin’

* * *

‘Dear Giacomo,

Consider yourself lucky that there is an entire world between us to keep me from pushing your old bones down a flight of stairs.

I would warn you to watch what you say, since I will be traveling to Europe on business in a few months’ time. Giac will be sending further correspondence, and he has voiced his desire to come calling.

I’ll fit you into my schedule if I have the time.

Yours,

Lina’

* * *

The morning came with a light drizzle. It wasn’t as if she needed another reason, but today especially Edith was glad she wasn’t on duty to empty the chamber pots.

Giacomo was at the window when she arrived with breakfast in hand. He didn’t acknowledge her when she chirped her morning greeting.

“Sir Casanova,” Edith said, peering at him. “Did you sleep?”

“Death will be coming for me soon, my dear,” Giacomo said. “I’ll have plenty of time to sleep then.”

The porridge was set upon his desk with a scoff. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You speak as if you don’t know me.”

“Eat your porridge.”

He obeyed the command as if a fair number of decades had been cut from his age. His companion eyed him up and down with a critical look as he ate.

“You should bathe and cut your hair.”

“Are you offering?” Giacomo asked, raising his brows.

“Sure,” Edith said, smiling. “I’ll trim your hair.”

“And the bathing?”

“I’m going to go get something sharp,” Edith said, taking her leave. Giacomo decided that it would be wise to drop the matter.

* * *

The drizzle had stopped by early afternoon, and the grass was littered with dewdrops which gleamed between the passing clouds. The scene reminded Edith of a fairytale when a black coach pulled by four regal-looking horses broke free of the tree line. The coach was led by a man on a speckled horse, and Edith immediately recognized the figure.

Giacomo shifted at her side. A small hand reached out to give his a reassuring squeeze. It was returned, somewhat mechanically, but Giacomo grew steady.

“Good day,” Giac said, swinging from his horse. He politely tipped his hat in Edith’s direction before turning his attention to his father.

“You hid from me,” Giac said. There was no malice behind the remark, although there was a hint of a question behind the statement.

“You asked me never to see you again,” Giacomo said, voice hoarse.

“When I was young, and full of anger,” Giac said with a sigh. “But I suppose I should find some admiration in you keeping your word.”

“You never wrote.”

“Neither did you.”

The two men regarded each other with steady expressions. A small sound caught their attention, and Edith was suddenly under their scrutiny.

“He spoke of you often,” Edith said. “It was mostly good things, and he certainly missed you terribly.”

“Oi,” Giacomo said, brow furrowing. “I’m trying to set an image here, girl.”

Giac threw his head back in a laugh. Edith thought if he was handsome before, be was practically radiant when smiling.

“That’s the fool I remember!”

Giacomo’s protest over the remark died away when his son wrapped him in his arms. He froze, but only for a moment. The embrace was returned with enough force to cause his arms to shake, and he buried his face in the younger man’s shoulder.

“I read about you,” Giacomo croaked. “Everything I could. You’ve done so much – I’m so proud.”

“Thank you, father,” Giac said, patting the man’s back. “You made your own fortune, from what I hear. And this time you didn’t blow the entire thing on gambling.”

“No,” Giacomo said, pulling away. “I just sunk most of it into a bloody dingy castle in the middle of nowhere.”

“You own a _castle?” _Edith asked, mouth agape. “Why in the world would you be here if you own a castle?!”

Giac frowned, looking at the building. “You mean this isn’t it?”

“No,” Giacomo said. “This is it.” He turned to Edith, noting the look on her face before reaching out to click her jaw closed.

“WHAT?!”

Edith backed away as if Giacomo had suddenly transformed into a horrendous beast. “But you’re not the master of the castle! Everyone says he’s away! You’re just the _librarian!”_

“Why do you have to say librarian as if it were so distasteful?” Giacomo asked. “I find it to be a rather noteworthy profession, and one that I can use to not actually be held accountable for getting a sliver of work done around the house.”

“That didn’t answer anything!”

“Didn’t it?” Giacomo said, thinking. “Oh, yes. I didn’t really want to be seen as the master, you know, because I’d be getting bothered all the time over every bloody little thing. I hired a man from a traveling acting troupe to make the rounds as the new house master at the time I acquired the castle. Then I came on board as the ‘librarian,’ and the servants have more or less had the autonomy to run things themselves. I’ll pen a letter that I’ll send in a roundabout way every now and again, but that’s all.”

“But everyone hates you!” Edith said in a shrill squeak.

“They do?” Giacomo said, genuinely surprised. “I thought it was just the housekeeper.”

Giac chuckled. “A woman hating you? Perhaps you’re not the man I remember.”

“I’m just out of practice,” Giacomo said with a huff. “I could seduce any woman, anywhere, if given the chance. I even could’ve had this one, here, if I’d wanted it.”

“Liar!” Edith said, her cheeks turning a deep crimson. “How dare you make such a bold accusation!”

“A bold, but _true _accusation,” Giacomo said with a wink.

Edith, who was now aware that striking Giacomo would mean assaulting the master of the house, only made a disgruntled sound before turning her back to him.

“Father, please,” Giac said. “Be more respectful.”

“Edith is a hard one to crack, she’ll be fine,” Giacomo said, watching her with a kind expression. His eyes fell on the carriage that had parked a few feet back, and the humor left his face entirely.

Giac followed his father’s gaze and looked over his shoulder. “Mother got out at the edge of the property. It’s been a long ride, and she gets antsy when she’s unable to pace.” He reached for the reigns of his horse. “Give me a moment to fetch her.”

“No,” Giacomo said, catching his son’s arm. This elicited a raised brow.

“Go inside and make yourself comfortable; your coachman, too. I’ll find her.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Giac’s mouth, and he gave his father a firm pat on the shoulder as he handed over the reins.

“I’m curious to see the castle,” Giac said, motioning for the coachman to dismount. “Edith, would you mind giving me a proper tour?”

Edith’s shoulder’s stiffened, but she quickly shook her head. “No, Sir. I don’t mind.”

“Bully,” Giac said, hitting her with smile that caused the girl to return a meek one of her own.

“And _that, _my boy,_” _Giacomo said, beaming. “Is how I know you’re a true Casanova at heart.”

This was met with a shake of his head before Giac motioned for Edith to lead the way. Giacomo watched their retreating forms for a moment before gingerly mounting the horse.

* * *

“Get down from there before you hurt yourself.”

“I’m not a child,” Giacomo said, shifting in his saddle. “Unless your eyesight has gotten so bad that you believed me to be.”

“I can see just fine,” the woman said, eyeing him up and down. “Outside of reading, anyway.”

“And what do you see, then?” Giacomo asked, doing his best to look suave.

The woman took a moment to respond, lifting her chin. “A dear fool.”

Giacomo dismounted, but hesitated to step forward. He studied the person before him who looked more of the woman from his memory than he’d been expecting.

Her hair was still mostly brown, with streaks of grey accenting the meticulous bun at the back of her head. It was clear that she kept herself out of the sun, since she looked to be more of a woman in her early fifties than one bordering on seventy. But there were laugh lines around her eyes and mouth that gave away her true age, among the slight frailty to her frame that hadn’t been there before.

“You’re still incredibly beautiful.”

“I wish I could say the same about you,” Lina said. A devious smile touched her lips as Giacomo frowned.

“You’re also still a bitch.”

“Some things can’t change,” Lina said. She held up her hand. Her eyes followed Giacomo as he approached, and trembling fingers met her own. The hand was raised to Giacomo’s lips, and they regarded each other for a moment before Giacomo pulled away.

“I should consider myself lucky that you made time to see me,” Giacomo said.

“No,” Lina said. “You should consider yourself lucky that you’re the entire reason I crossed the ocean.”

Something hopeful flashed behind blue eyes before Giacomo caught himself and pushed it down. “Oh? Do I owe you money?”

“You owe me something, but we’ll get to that in a minute.”

Lina started to walk. Giacomo joined her at her side, and she looped her arm in his.

“Can I take your remark as an assumption that I’ve been forgiven?” Giacomo asked.

“Of course,” Lina said. “I forgave you years ago; I wouldn’t have written back if I were still cross.”

Giacomo almost stumbled. “All this time? Why didn’t you come for me? Or have me come to you?”

“I wanted to see what happened next,” Lina said. “And you were happy there with your family, weren’t you?”

“I would’ve been happier with you.”

“I’m not so sure,” Lina said, looking out over the grounds. “It’s terribly plain out here, you should plant some hedges.”

“Lina.”

“What do you want me to say?” Lina said, irritation creeping into her voice. “I couldn’t leave my life any more than you could leave yours. One of us would’ve had to give up on everything they accomplished, and then that would loom over our heads until the end of our days.”

“I would’ve thrown every accomplishment I ever made away in an instant if it meant being with you,” Giacomo countered.

“But that’s not the man I’d want,” Lina said, watching him with a frown. “That version of you was the man who chased after Henriette Grimani until it nearly ruined him. I wanted the version of you who no longer felt the need to forever be chasing a carrot on a stick.”

“Can you be so sure I’m that man?”

“I am,” Lina said, strengthening her grip on his arm. “Because despite your claim, when I held that first bottle of wine in my hands – the one that you had spent years toiling away for – I _knew _that you wouldn’t come if I asked it.”

Giacomo’s smile grew wistful. “You have more faith in me than I do myself.”

“You had worked for something, and were reaping the rewards,” Lina said. “You had a goal in mind that didn’t revolve around a woman, but around providing for the people you called your family. You were able to look into their eyes and feel the accomplishment knowing that they were going to be just fine because you had done everything in your power to make it that way.”

Giacomo chuckled. “What you’re saying is that it took me nearly thirty years to catch up to where you were when we first met.”

“Basically.”

“There really must be something wrong with me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Lina said. “It certainly isn’t just one thing.”

“I must be masochist, because I’m enjoying you insulting me far more than should be healthy.”

“Speaking of health,” Lina said. “You seem well.”

“Not as fit as I used to be in the fields,” Giacomo said. “But not dead yet, so that’s a plus.”

“Have you heard from Rocco?” Lina asked.

“Three months back,” Giacomo said. They’d been trailing along the outskirts of the grounds in a slow circle, and were able to see the prominent towers along the back of the building jutting up against the grey sky. It was there Giacomo’s attention had been caught as he wondered if Giac and Edith would be able to make them out.

“He seems fine. Kadri’s taking fine care of him, in Esmee’s absence.”

“I wish I had met her,” Lina said. “Your father, too. I felt that I practically knew them from your letters.”

“Of course you knew them,” Giacomo said. “And they knew you from my stories. The two of them grew to love you just as much as I did.”

Lina’s gaze had dropped to the hem of her navy smock. Giacomo regarded her in silence for a few paces, struck with the notion that he had dreamed of this moment for so long, that perhaps it wasn’t real. It was ultimately decided that the uncomfortable sensation of water seeping through his boots countered that possibility.

“So,” he said. “America.”

Lina lifted her eyes with a smile. “Yes, America.”

“Thoughts?”

“Fond, most of them,” she said. “When an American regards a person, they measure them by the size of their purse, not by the size of their dick.”

“That must be an intriguing scaling system.”

“They use that instead of metric.”

Giacomo chuckled. He cleared his throat as an uncomfortable sensation suddenly squirmed in his stomach. “Did you ever marry?”

“You don’t think I would’ve told you if I did?” Lina asked, raising her brow.

“Perhaps not.”

“How little you think of me,” Lina said, lifting her chin. “No, I had no need to marry. Like I said, I was able to conduct my business far more freely in the Americas without judgement. I was wealthy, and that was really all that mattered to them.”

Giacomo’s form relaxed. “So, you really did wait for me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Lina said. “There were courtships, but none of the men were up to snuff.”

“Not even one?”

Lina frowned. “Well, there was Ben. Probably the most charming man I ever met, aside from you. Perhaps even more so, since he convinced me to go to bed with him.”

Giacomo’s gait came to a halt. His face twisted in shock. “You _what? _Out of wedlock? _You?!_”

“I wasn’t getting any younger,” Lina stated. “And no one ever bats an eye when an unmarried man does such business, so why should I be any different?”

“It’s not … not that,” Giacomo said, lamely. “That’s just … not something I pictured you would do.”

“I don’t believe you’re in any sort of position to judge someone for their exploits, Senor Casanova,” Lina said, her voice hardening.

“Ah, no. I simply … forget it. Did you … sire any children?”

“We took measures to prevent that,” Lina said. “Ben also had a reputation courting various women during his stay in Europe, from what I learned, so I was most certainly cautious keeping myself protected in that regard.”

“Hold on,” Giacomo said, brow furrowing. “What was this man’s family name?”

“Franklin.”

“That bastard!” Giacomo exclaimed, showing far more vigor than expected for a man his age. “I met him! He stayed in my _home! _We talked about his nonsense with evaporative cooling and politics and the women we bed–”

Giacomo cut himself short before revealing too much.

“Oh, I’m sure you two had _a lot _to share,” Lina said. “You’re the reason he sought me out, you know. He’d heard of a company being run by a woman, and wanted to see it for himself.”

“He _what?!” _Giacomo said. “I’ll swim across the bloody ocean and strangle that bastard to death myself!”

Lina turned away, shaking her head. “You’re a few years too late for that, I’m afraid. I also believe he’d trounce you in a bout, so it’s probably all for the better.”

Giacomo was left harboring a ball of rage in his gut with no outlet to take it out on. He instead let out a frustrated groan before catching up to Lina’s casual gait.

“I do understand now,” Lina said, not meeting his gaze. “What you said before about being able to love multiple people. I can say that I loved Ben, but not in the same way I loved you. The whole revolutionary war also threw a bit of a wrench into things, as it were.”

“I can imagine,” Giacomo grumbled.

“He also didn’t seem terribly disappointed when I turned down his proposal, which I believe points to another sign that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued. “Our time together isn’t something I regret, and I believe having him in my life helped to shape me into the person I am today. I feel that I’m far more empathetic and open-minded than I was in the past.”

Giacomo nodded. “Indeed – you’ve only insulted me three times thus far.”

“Hush. I’m going to give you an apology, but then you must give me something in return.”

“Give you something?” Giacomo asked, puzzled. “Give you what?”

“The thing I came here for,” Lina said. “And it won’t be the same if I tell you beforehand.”

“Do I have any choice but to agree?”

“No.”

Giacomo smiled. “Well, I know better than to try negotiating with an expert. Get on with this unwarranted apology.”

“It’s very warranted,” Lina said, lifting her chin. “I failed to offer you aid when you needed me. Rocco told me there was something wrong with you, and I had been aware of the gambling and drinking when you came back from Venice, but I turned a blind eye. I knew that something had happened while you were away, but I was too much of a coward to confront you about what. I wanted you to solve your own problems, and that was a very close-minded mindset to have toward someone you were meant to marry. You were utterly alone, with no one to depend on when things were hard. I’m sorry.”

Giacomo’s first reaction was to laugh, but he had enough wherewithal to know that wouldn’t go over well.

“You didn’t owe me anything,” he said. “Not after what I did … what I _tried _to do to you.”

“We both made mistakes,” Lina said. “Yours worse than mine, admittedly; but like a said, that was forgiven long ago.”

Unsolicited tears came to his eyes. Giacomo wiped them away in surprise.

“Is my apology accepted?” Lina asked, watching him with newfound uncertainty. The fact that she couldn’t fathom that Giacomo could ever _not _forgive her for anything short of murder pushed him to chuckle.

“Your apology is accepted,” Giacomo said, his voice tender as he regarded her.

“And now I’ll ask you for the thing I want,” Lina said, coming to a stop. She lifted her hand, but unlike any time she’d offered it before, the palm was face-up.

“Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin,” Lina said, an air of something serious to her voice. “Will you marry me?”

Giacomo blinked.

Once.

Twice.

He let out a cry in pain, clutching his chest as he doubled over.

Lina exclaimed in shock, scrambling to hold him steady as he threatened to crumple to the grass.

Giacomo’s voice came out in a forced wheeze. “You’re too easy.”

Lina froze. She recovered by shoving a laughing Giacomo with all her might, which admittedly wasn’t much. “You wandought!”

“Ooh, I don’t believe that one fits,” Giacomo said, stepping forward to take her in his arms. He smiled down at her, amused by his joke. “I want you to ask me that question again, just to be sure this is what you want.”

“I’m reconsidering.”

Giacomo’s smile widened. “I thought so.”

Lina took a step back, and Giacomo allowed his arms to fall away. She glared daggers at him for a moment, before once again offering her palm.

“Giacomo Casanova-Bragadin,” she repeated. “Will you do one thing in your life that isn’t idiotic, for a change, and marry me?”

Giacomo hummed. “But then I’ll break my streak of idiocy, and I’ve been at it for quite some time.”

Lina’s nostril’s flared, and Giacomo quickly took her hand. He smiled, hitting her with a wink.

“I suppose.”

* * *

“You’re getting married?!” Edith said. “Really?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” Giacomo said. “I apologize for getting ahead of myself – Lina, this is the girl I wrote you about, Edith.”

Edith’s shock ebbed away into a touched expression. “You’ve written about me?”

“Some, yes,” Giacomo said. “Mostly complaints, to be honest.”

“He jests,” Lina said, offering a polite nod. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear.”

“Same. Uh … yes, it’s the same, my lady,” Edith said, offering a flustered curtsy.

“So you asked him?” Giac said. He’d had to excuse himself for a moment after meeting them outside the castle to fetch the horse his father had left unabashedly grazing in the middle of the grounds. The speckled horse was now in tow as Giac watched his mother in expectation.

“I did,” she said. “I told you I could.”

“I was worried,” Giac said, holding in laughter. “You seemed to talk yourself out of it every five minutes for the weeks leading up to this day – she was a mess.”

“Hush, child!” Lina said. “You will show your mother some respect. Do you allow your own children to speak back to you in that manner?”

“No, mum,” Giac said, the grin still stuck on his face.

“Son,” Giacomo said, placing a hand on Giac’s shoulder. “Listen to your mother.”

“If you try enacting any form of authority on me again,” Giac said, brushing away the hand. “Then I’ll bop you on the nose.”

Giacomo held up his palms in surrender as he backed away. He looked over his shoulder as something caught his eye. “Ah, here they are,” he said, glad to find a distraction as two young men carrying a large black chest between them wriggled through the door.

“Where do ya want this bloody thing?” one of them spat, frowning at Giacomo.

“The coach, please,” Lina said, catching the man's attention. “On the back, there – the man tending to the horses will assist you.”

“Of course, my lady,” the young man said, his temperament changing on a dime the moment he sensed a good tip could be had. The chest was hoisted up and slowly made its way toward the coach.

“Edith, my dear,” Giacomo said, drawing the young woman's eyes away from the coach. “You’re officially being promoted to the position of librarian. Here’s the key – all I ask is that you keep my things tidy until I send for them. My memoirs, especially, if that goes without saying.”

The information seemed to be too much, and Edith blinked owlishly at the key in her palm for a moment before looking up. “That’s … but, Sir! Shouldn’t you be taking your story with you now? For safekeeping?”

“Well, I’m in a bit of a hurry,” Giacomo said. He clasped Lina’s hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss before continuing. “We’d like to make it into the village before the vicar goes home for the day.”

Edith’s eyes grew wide. “You … you mean you’re getting married _today?!”_

“No time like the present,” Giacomo said. “And we’re old, my dear – heaven knows how much time we have left.”

Lina rolled her eyes, much to her betrothed’s amusement.

“And I trust you to look after them,” Giacomo said. “Just as I trust you to deliver them when you’re to be called.”

“Huh?” Edith squeaked.

“I know you don’t want to live this rest of your life in this damp castle,” Giacomo said. “You’re educated – I’m sure we could find something for you to do in the company.”

“We’re not even married yet, and already things concerning the company is ‘we,’” Lina said. She turned to Edith with a much kinder expression. “But he isn’t wrong – Giacomo had mentioned you have strong reading comprehension, and you did a fine job looking out for him. If you were able to handle his temperament, then I believe you may even be a good match to look after my grandchildren.”

“Mum,” Giac said, “William is practically her age.”

“Even better!” Giacomo said. “Then I’m sure she’d do a fine job '_looking after him_,' hmm?”

Giacomo chuckled, but no else seemed to find the joke funny.

“I meant the younger children, obviously,” Lina said, ignoring Giacomo entirely. “Your wife has been having trouble finding anyone suitable.”

“Only because you insist her standards should be practically unattainable,” Giac countered.

“There is nothing wrong with having high standards when it comes to who should be raising your children.”

Giac spoke with the cadence of a man who’d had this conversation countless times before. “You’re insisting she find someone who’s capable in the likes of reading, cooking, cleaning, music, equations, and even pottery. Who needs to know pottery?”

“The demand for finished goods from the west has been increasing since–”

“Well,” Giacomo interrupted. “I’m beginning to get a glimpse at where I’m going to fit into his dynamic. In leu of us being here until nightfall – Giac, can you please inform the coachman we’re ready to be on our way?”

Giac seemed happy to oblige as he hopped on his horse. He returned his mother’s frustrated expression with a smile, and tilted his hat to Edith before trotting away.

“I’ll be a moment, my love,” Giacomo said. He gave Lina’s hand a squeeze, the act being returned before he released her.

“It was a pleasure,” Lina said, nodding to Edith. “I hope I’ll have the satisfaction to spend more time in your company when you join us in Italy.”

“Yes, it was nice meeting you,” Edith said as she curtsied. “And … Italy?”

“Well, I can’t have Lina going back to the Americas without seeing my vineyard, first,” Giacomo said. “I _am _allowed some level of boasting, albeit it’s probably nothing compared to the hundreds of ships I’ll see when we eventually make it to the port.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely nothing in comparison,” Lina said with a grin. She nodded to Edith again before turning and heading toward the coach.

“This has …” Edith said, watching her go. “This had been quite the day.”

“Has it? This is what things are usually like – for me, anyway,” Giacomo said. He took Edith’s hand, bowing low as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. “Thank you, my dear. If it weren’t for your encouragement, I believe I would’ve run to the hills like the coward I am the moment Lina mentioned coming for me. Her appearing after so many years was overwhelming, and your presence certainly helped to put things into perspective.”

Edith watched him with a guilty expression as he straightened. “I believe you’re giving me far too much credit, Sir.”

“Not in the slightest,” Giacomo said. He smiled at her dour expression. “Come on; chin up, shoulders back. For the love of God, stand up straight!”

Edith did as he asked, and Giacomo reached out to tap her chin upward.

“There we are – the very picture of someone who’s too good for this dump. Keep that mindset, my dear – faking it until you make it will take you much farther than you’d imagine; look at me, for example.”

Edith smirked as she watched him back away. “All I see is an old fool.”

“A _rich _old fool.”

Edith laughed, “All the money in the world won’t make you not a fool.”

Giacomo opened his arms wide. “But at that point, does it matter?”

She returned the lighthearted wave before Giacomo Casanova disappeared into the black carriage. The young woman stood there, looking down the road far past when it was out of sight. She brought her hand to her chest, feeling the beat of her heart and the way it skipped when she dwelled on the idea of leaving the castle and setting forth into the unknown.

“I wonder if he has some extra paper?” she mused.

The newly minted librarian turned toward the door. She decided that there was no time like the present to get writing, since it looked like she was about to start an adventure of her own.


End file.
